The Chambermaid
by Shaelenina
Summary: After an unfortunate carriage accident, Elizabeth Bennet becomes separated from her family. She eventually finds herself working as a servant in Derbyshire. While working as a chambermaid, Elizabeth is able to help Fitzwilliam Darcy, who has suffered a severe trauma. Note: this story contains references to sexual assault.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I

 _May 1797_

"Mama, why are there forks in the road?" asked an inquisitive six-year-old Lizzy Bennet, after hearing another passenger in the post carriage make a comment that caused her to envision cutlery on the path.

"If there were not, then all roads would lead to the same place," answered Mrs. Bennet, tiredly. Every morning Lizzy would ask hundreds of questions, hoping to gain a better understanding of the world. Each day Mrs. Bennet would try answering each of her daughter's queries. However, by afternoon she would always give up and begin responding, "I do not know." Lizzy supposed it was not Mrs. Bennet's fault that she did not know everything like her father did. Papa never answered "I do not know." He always had something clever or witty to say, though often his answers did not leave Lizzy less confused than her mother's did.

"Papa said all roads lead to Rome. Is that true? Where is Rome?"

"That is an expression, Lizzy?"

"What's a 'spression?" The child asked eagerly.

"It is something people say because it is true, even though it is not exactly true."

"Like when John told his father that he did not break the vase, and that Charlotte did. Charlotte only fell on the vase because John pushed her! He told the truth, but it was not exactly the truth."

"Not quite-" Mrs. Bennet was almost grateful when her youngest child interrupted her, for Lydia's squalls caused Elizabeth to forget her questions; however, they also woke two year old Kitty Bennet, who had been sleeping halfway across Lizzy's lap.

Mrs. Bennet's brother, Edward Gardiner, had recently purchased a new home for himself in London, and he had invited his sister to stay with him for a few weeks to help furnish the home and hire staff. She had readily agreed to the plan, provided that she could bring her two youngest daughters, whom she considered far too young to be long apart from their mother. Mr. Gardiner had happily conceded and had requested that Lizzy come as well, since she amused him. Mrs. Bennet had reluctantly agreed to the request, knowing that her inquisitive young daughter's presence would cause her both pleasure and frustration. Though she could not have foreseen it then, Mrs. Bennet would spend the rest of her life regretting the decision to bring Elizabeth.

As the two small children continued to cry, the carriage's other passenger began to sing softly, "Don't cry, Baby! Don't cry, Baby!" He crooned repeatedly to the tune of Greensleeves. To Elizabeth's astonishment, both her little sisters quieted almost immediately.

"Thank you," Mrs. Bennet told the stranger, who had introduced himself earlier as Stockings. Stockings nodded in return, not wishing to break his song with speech. "I shall have to suggest this song to Daisy." Daisy was one of Longbourn's maids who helped to look after the girls. She had been scheduled to travel with Mrs. Bennet, but she had been indisposed that morning. Rather than changing her plans, Mrs. Bennet had decided to travel without the maid.

Mrs. Bennet had originally been unhappy about traveling with a stranger; however, now she was thankful for the man's presence. She had tried to persuade Mr. Bennet to allow her to take the family carriage to London, but he had insisted that she travel by post. Thus, the family carriage had transported Mrs. Bennet and her daughters to a posting station, and Mr. Gardiner would sent a carriage to meet them in London.

Elizabeth examined Mr. Stockings, whose real name was Percival Winston Cavendish Smith, though no one had called him that since he was about three-years-old, when the young boy had escaped from his home and run into the nearby village wearing only the clothing whose name he now bore. Elizabeth thought Mr. Stockings must be as old as her Papa, but something about his features and expressions made him seem much younger. She also thought he would not mind her asking him the sort of questions her mother called impertinent.

"Mr. Stockings, how old –?" Unfortunately, before Elizabeth could complete her question, the carriage lurched. Almost immediately, it tipped over, causing the passengers to land in a heap. Mrs. Bennet, who landed on the bottom of the heap, suffered a blow to the head which rendered her unconscious, but Lizzy and her sisters were uninjured, and Mr. Stockings suffered only minor bruises.

"Mama! Mama!" Shouted all three of the girls.

"Wake up please, Mama." Elizabeth pleaded to no avail.

"What is wrong with my Mama, Mr. Stockings?"

"I think she is dead," the man replied. Elizabeth understood death, since her Grandmother Bennet had passed away only a few months before. She began to sob.

"What are we to do?" Mr. Stockings was a kind and gentle man, but his mental capacity was probably less than even Elizabeth's. Those who had known him all his life called him 'special' or 'different' while new acquaintances sometimes called him an idiot or said that he 'wasn't quite right in his upper story'. Thus, no one ever requested his opinion or asked his advice, and Elizabeth's question surprised him.

"I suppose we should ask the driver."

Mr. Stockings helped Elizabeth and her sisters to climb out of the overturned carriage, then he extracted himself and walked around to the driver's seat. Like Mrs. Bennet, the driver was unresponsive. Indeed, the poor fellow had indeed perished in the accident. The driver's extensive injuries caused Stockings to blanch, and he hurriedly sought to shelter the young girls from the ghastly view.

"He is dead, too, girls." He did not think to look for the man who had been riding on the back of the carriage. He likely would have thought that man dead as well, for like Mrs. Bennet, he had been rendered unconscious by the accident.

"What will we do?" Neither Mr. Stockings nor Elizabeth ever considered simply waiting for help to arrive.

"If we go to London, my brother will help us."

"Do you know the way?"

"This is the London road. It must take us to London," Stockings reasoned.

"Uncle Gardiner is to meet us at Smithfield Market."

"My brother said he would meet me there as well."

"Then I guess we had better go," replied Elizabeth, taking a sister's hand in each of hers.

The four then set off plodding slowly along the road. Before long the barely toddling Lydia grew weary, and Elizabeth deigned to carry her for a short time. However, Elizabeth was not strong enough to bear her sister's weight for long, so Mr. Stockings took the baby in his arms. Soon she was joined by her slightly older sister, for Catherine Bennet quickly tired also. Fortunately, Mr. Stockings was a fit man, and carrying the two small girls did not phase him.

The road on which these travelers walked was well-traveled; thus, before long the group heard the sound of a carriage rattling down the road. When Mr. Stockings heard the approaching equipage, he hoped it might bear someone who would offer help. However, Elizabeth imagined an entirely different scenario, and her speculations soon turned Mr. Stockings' hope to fear.

"What if it is a highwayman?" asked the alarmed six-year-old. Had her companion been more sensible, he would have reasoned that even if a highwayman might be brave enough to attack in broad daylight, he likely would not have bothered a bedraggled looking man with three small girls, whose appearance did not bespeak wealth.

A thousand possible terrors flashed through Stockings' mind, and he replied, "I will keep you safe, but we must hide!" He then dashed behind a large shrubbery, calling for Elizabeth to follow. When the carriage was safely past, the companions emerged from their hiding place to resume their journey. After that mad dash, Stockings and Lizzy agreed that they should conceal themselves whenever they heard a carriage or wagon until they reached the vicinity of London where the crowds would provide some protection. While this decision protected them from the dubious threat presented by highwaymen, it prevented them from obtaining the help they should otherwise have received.

While they walked, Elizabeth entertained Stockings with vivid descriptions of her life at Longbourn. She spoke so quickly that he sometimes had difficulty understanding her, but he did not try to slow her speech. When she asked questions, he rarely knew the answers, but he tried to imagine answers, and often had questions of his own.

"Why is the grass green, Mr. Stockings?"

"I am not sure why, but I think that is because the sun is yellow and the sky is blue. Yellow and blue make green. Do you know what makes the sun yellow?"

"Papa says the sun is not truly yellow, but white. He says if the sun was actually yellow that it could not make rainbows. He says that rainbows happen when the water in the sky separates the light."

"But doesn't God put rainbows in the sky?" Lizzy nodded.

"If I were Noah, I would not have brought rats on the ark."

"Even if God told you to?" asked Stockings in amazement.

"Probably. I suppose God would not like that. I am not very good."

"It is hard to be good, Miss Elizabeth."

"Why are things that we buy called goods?" Elizabeth then asked. Stockings proceeded to answer, and the conversation continued in a similar manner.

Stockings arrived at Smithfield Market with his three charges just as night began to fall. Stockings' brother, who had expected him to arrive about noon, left instructions for Stockings to travel to his home by hackney. There was no message from Mr. Gardiner for his nieces, nor was there any sign that gentleman had arrived at the market. Since he obviously could not abandon the three girls, Stockings took them to his brother's home.

By the time the hackney arrived at the home of Mr. David Smith, all three girls were soundly sleeping, so Stockings carried them into the home one at a time. Mr. Smith looked at his brother in astonishment.

"Where have you been Stockings? And who are all these children? You know we haven't the room for them." This was true. The David Smith's lived in a small home with barely enough room for the family. Stockings would sleep on a mat in the kitchen while he resided there.

"I am sorry, David. They are orphan girls." Stockings did not mean to deceive his brother. When his own mother died, he had become an orphan; thus, he assumed the Bennet girls, whose mother he believed dead, were now orphans as well. He did not understand that the term implied the loss of both parents.

"And why are they with you?"

"They were traveling to stay with their uncle who is a gardener who works in Cheapside. He was supposed to meet them at Smithfield Market, but he was not there. There was no message left for them." Now David believed that the girls had been entrusted into his brother's care intentionally. He also supposed this uncle must be the only living relation the children had, for who would entrust the care of three little girls to a poor gardener if they had another choice.

"Perhaps their uncle has decided he cannot keep them. In any case, we have no room for the girls here. I will take them to the church. Reverend Smalley will know what to do." Stockings once again carried the Bennet girls, this time to his brother's modest equipage. He felt as though he were abandoning the girls as his brother drove away, but there was not sufficient room for him to join them in the gig.

The reverend upon hearing Mr. David Smith's account of the girls' history, agreed to keep them for the night and to take them the next day to an orphanage he often visited.

Early the next morning, Elizabeth woke to the sounds of her sisters' cries. Both Lydia and Kitty called repeatedly for their mother. Finding herself in an unknown place, Lizzy crept quietly out of bed and down the stairs. She found Mr. Smalley seated at the kitchen table eating eggs and toast. He quickly offered some food to his young guest. She accepted eagerly, and quickly devoured her breakfast. Only after she had eaten did she remember that her little sisters also needed to be fed.

"Where are we, sir?"

"This is my home."

"Where is Mr. Stockings?"

"He is staying with his brother, but there was no room for you there."

"Will Papa come to get my sisters and I soon?" The minister felt sorry for the little girl, who must not yet understand death.

"My child, you are an orphan now. Your mother and father are dead. They cannot come for you. You and your sisters will have to live in an orphanage." Lizzy began sobbing madly. She wondered how her father had died, but she wondered even more what would happen to her sisters.

"What will happen to my sisters?"

"They will go to the orphanage, too," Mr. Smalley responded, unaware the girl had two more sisters back in Hertfordshire. Lizzy sighed in relief; she would not worry too much now that she knew Jane would be with her.

Once all three girls had finished their breakfast, the housekeeper cleaned the three girls as well as she could. Then Mr. Smalley hired a hack-chaise to transport himself and the children to the orphanage.

Because of the previous day's accident, Elizabeth became suddenly frightened when it was time to board the carriage. To calm her, the driver suggest she ride up front beside him. The minister could see no harm in it, so he readily consented.

"What is your name, little one?" The driver asked after their journey began.

"Elizabeth Bennet, sir, but mostly people call me Lizzy."

"And how old are you?"

"Six."

"And what do you like to do?"

"I like to read and I like to play outside with Jane."

"You can read?"

"Yes sir. Sometimes I need a little help with big words. Papa was helping me read Robinson Crusoe before..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off.

"That is amazing!"

"It is?" voiced a surprised Elizabeth.

"Yes, my child. What did your father do?"

"He helped to run Longbourn." The driver assumed that girl's father must have been a steward, when in fact her father was the heir. Her grandfather was old and nearly feeble; thus, Elizabeth's father was master in all but name.

To Elizabeth's great misfortune, the driver did not ask Elizabeth more questions about her family. If he had, he would certainly have realized that she and her sisters had plenty of living relatives who might shelter them, and therefore, that they did not belong in an orphanage. Instead, he asked more questions about her interests and abilities.

By the time they arrived at the orphanage, the hack driver had decided that he and his wife should adopt the bright little girl. Mr. Smalley saw no reason to object to the plan, so after unloading Lydia and Catherine from the carriage, he paid the driver and bade Elizabeth good-bye.

"Where are we going? Why am I not going with my sisters?"

"You are going to come to my home and be my little girl."

"But what about my sisters?"

"Each of them will go to a different home."

"We are not going to be together?"

"They might be together for a little while, but they will eventually be separated."

"Oh." Elizabeth made no attempt to disguise her dismay. She felt that she could not bear the loss of Jane, especially without having an opportunity to say good-bye.

Elizabeth continued to ride with the hack driver through the day, as he transported people from place to place. Then at dinner time, he brought her to his home, fully expecting his wife to be as delighted with Elizabeth as he was.

The driver happened to be completely wrong in his expectations, as his wife coolly demanded, "Who is this?" as soon as he led Elizabeth into his home.

"She is an orphan girl. I thought we could adopt her."

"You thought what?"

"I know you have always wanted children. We have been married these five years and not been blessed with any. Little Elizabeth here is especially charming."

"Husband, I had not meant to tell you so soon, but I believe I am expecting. I have no desire to raise someone else's child. We will soon have one of our own."

"We will!" exclaimed the husband. "I shall take Elizabeth to the orphanage tomorrow then. I hope you do not mind keeping her for one night."

"Can you not take her back now?" his wife pleaded. She did not wish to entertain the strange child.

"I suppose I can."

When they were once again seated on the carriage box, the driver apologized to Elizabeth. Elizabeth assured him she did not mind. She expected to soon have a pleasant reunion with her sisters.

About five minutes into their journey, a man hailed the hack-chaise asking for a ride. The driver initially refused, explaining that he had to take Elizabeth to the orphanage. This provoked the gentleman's curiosity, causing him to ask the girl's history. He became particularly interested when he learned that Elizabeth could read, write and do sums. Such a child would be useful to him, for he owned a haberdashery.

"Would you allow me to take the child instead? I should like to adopt her." Because the driver had been so taken with the child himself, he did not question the gentleman's motives. Moreover, he was pleased not to have to waste time transporting the child to the orphanage, so he readily agreed.

Thus, Elizabeth Bennet soon found herself transferred into the care of a Mr. Lewis Clipper a haberdasher from Derby. Mr. Clipper had traveled to town to meet a new supplier and purchase goods. He had finished his business and saw no reason to linger after deciding to adopt Elizabeth. Therefore, less than a week after the life-altering carriage accident, Elizabeth was living in the apartment above Clipper's haberdashery in Derby with the store's owner and his widowed sister. That apartment would be her home for the next seven years.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

 _July 1804_

"Will this lace do, Miss Davis?" Thirteen-year-old Elizabeth asked her favorite customer. She had been living with Mr. Clipper for seven years and working in his haberdashery for five. Her cheerful manners and good head for figures made her an ideal assistant in the shop.

"It is quite lovely, but it is not quite what I had in mind for my new gown. Have you any other options?" Mary Davis asked politely.

"Mr. Clipper has a new shipment in the back. I could check it, if you do not mind waiting." Lizzy knew she was not supposed to look through the crates before Mr. Clipper had a chance to inventory their contents, but she hated to disappoint Miss Davis. The young lady was a regular customer, but she lived several miles distant in a small village called Lambton, and would not be happy to have traveled such a distance without receiving the lace she sought.

"I would greatly appreciate it, Miss."

Several minutes later Elizabeth returned with several lengths of lace. Miss Davis selected a beautiful French lace.

As she was recording Miss Davis's purchase, Lizzy made polite conversation, "Have you heard from your cousin Miss Margaret lately?" Miss Davis's cousin had lived in Lambton when Lizzy had first come to Derby and had frequently shopped in the store. Then, three years ago, Miss Margaret had moved to London; she had married soon after.

"Meg's daughter just celebrated her first Birthday. Meg sends me the most amusing letters about all the things baby Lizzy does."

"I can imagine so. Hannah and Molly keep me laughing constantly." Hannah and Molly were Mr. Clippers young daughters. Mr. Clipper had married four years ago, Hannah had been born less than a year later and Molly had followed two years later. Every time Elizabeth saw them she thought of Catherine and Lydia and wondered how her baby sisters fared; she longed for news of them. However, she kept her pain private and never mentioned the life she had lived before coming to Derby. Aside from missing her family, Lizzy felt she had little cause to complain. The Clippers treated her well most of the time. They did expect her to work long hours in the haberdashery, to help balance the books and to care for the Clippers' young daughters. They did not pay her, but she did not mind, because she viewed herself as part of the family. She always dined with the family, and joined them when they attended church or other events suitable for children.

"I shall tell Margaret you asked after her, Miss Clipper." Lizzy looked at Miss Davis in surprise, though this was not the first time someone had believed her to be the haberdasher's daughter. Then she realized that Miss Davis and her cousin had both always referred to her by her given name. Knowing that two ladies she had long viewed as friends did not even know her true name made Elizabeth feel lonely.

"Actually, it is Miss Bennet." Now it was Miss Davis's turn to be astonished.

"Is Mr. Clipper not your father?" Lizzy smiled sadly thinking of her Papa

"He is not."

"Oh."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Elizabeth asked hurriedly, not wishing to dwell long on the events of that dreadful day when she had lost her entire family.

"I cannot think of anything."

"Very well. I hope to see you again soon." That night Elizabeth cried herself to sleep; she had often done so during her first few weeks with Mr. Clipper, but she had stopped crying many years ago.

The next morning Elizabeth woke with the sun as she always did. She hurriedly dressed and rushed downstairs so that she could lexamine the books before the children woke. To her surprise, she was not the only one in the shop. She could hear Mr. Clipper rustling through the crates in the back room. Elizabeth approached to see if the man needed her assistance, but when she heard him muttering some unsavory words, she backed away. Elizabeth had learned to avoid Mr. Clipper when he was in such a mood. Instead, she quietly set about her work.

Finally, Mr. Clipper burst into the room. "The order is missing a length of French lace! You must write to the supplier immediately!"

"I am sorry, sir. The fault is mine. I sold that lace to Miss Davis."

"You worthless chit!" Clipper shouted. Lizzy shrank back. Mr. Clipper had spoken many vile words to her, but he had never before called her worthless.

"I was only trying to help, sir." These words did nothing to soothe the man's temper, and he smacked Lizzy across the face.

"That lace was ordered especially for Lady Matlock. I am expecting her arrival any moment. She will be furious to hear that you have sold her lace!"

"Not half so furious as I am to know you abuse your daughter so!"

"She is no daughter of mine. Elizabeth is nothing to me." Though Elizabeth had always known that she was not Mr. Clipper's relation, she had always believed he cared for her almost as a daughter. His words crushed her spirit. The unkind utterances injured Elizabeth far more than his slap.

"Perhaps Miss Elizabeth could bring out the other lace samples you have, and I could see if any of those would be satisfactory." Clipper waved a hand directing Elizabeth to do as the lady had requested. Elizabeth quickly obeyed. While she was in the back room, she heard the two yelling furiously at one another, though she could not understand what was said.

Lady Matlock listened to Mr. Clipper and was disgusted with him. In addition to learning that Mr. Clipper saw no wrong in striking a child as punishment, she learned that Elizabeth had been living with the Clippers for years and working for them without pay. She decided to rescue the poor child from her enslavement.

When Elizabeth returned with the aforementioned lace, Lady Matlock selected a length, and then requested that Elizabeth wrap it. While Elizabeth neatly wrapped the lace and tied the parcel, Lady Matlock carried on a quiet conversation with the proprietor of the shop. Then when Elizabeth attempted to offer the parcel to Lady Matlock, the countess demanded that she carry it to the carriage. Elizabeth inwardly laughed at the great lady who could not carry her own lace, but outwardly she smiled and cheerfully complied.

Once they were outside, Lady Matlock spoke to Elizabeth, "You are going to come to live at Matlock house. I will not allow you to be so mistreated." Elizabeth looked at Lady Matlock curiously. She wondered how Mr. Clipper could send her away after she had lived as almost part of the family for so long, but his angry words were burned on her heart.

"Might I say good-bye to the Clippers?" Lady Matlock's countenance showed puzzlement. How could this girl whom she was rescuing wish to farewell her captors.

"No, you certainly may not!" Lizzy assumed that Mr. Clipper had dictated such a speedy departure. She did not suspect that the countess was taking her without the haberdasher's consent. Thus, she meekly entered the carriage without complaint.

On the journey to the Matlock estate, Elizabeth daydreamed about her life in the family of an earl. She imagined that she might be treated as Lady Matlock's daughter and that she would become almost a great lady. When they arrived at Matlock her daydreams were instantly shattered.

Upon entering her home, Lady Matlock led Elizabeth directly to the housekeeper's office. "Mrs. Pringle, This is Elizabeth Bennet. She needs a position."

"Well," Mrs. Pringle sniffed, "we could use another scullery maid."

"Thank you," answered Lady Matlock. "Please see her appropriately settled."

"But -" Elizabeth began; however, Lady Matlock had already swept herself away.

"You will speak only when spoken to, young lady!" demanded the housekeeper. "Now tell me about yourself."

"I am Elizabeth Bennet. I was born at Longbourn in Hertfordshire to Thomas and Fanny Bennet. I was orphaned at the age of six. I do not know where the rest of my family are, but I had four sisters." Lizzy paused. When she had first come to Derby, Mr. Clipper had assured her that he had done all that could to contact her family; today she doubted him for the first time. In any case the housekeeper seemed uninterested in learning of Lizzy's connections.

"That matters not. Have you any experience in the scullery." Lizzy, wishing to be liked, exaggerated her experience cooking. She had occasionally helped the Clippers prepare meals, but she had not spent much time in the kitchen.

"You'll do," Mrs. Pringle gruffly assented. "Let me show you your room." The housekeeper then led Lizzy to a dark, dusty attic room, in which stood two small cots.

"This is my room?" asked Lizzy doubtfully.

"Yes. You will share with Betsy." Lizzy examined the room more thoroughly, wondering how this Betsy could bear living in such a filthy place. "By the way," continued Mrs. Pringle, "you will be called Eliza. We already have a Betsy, Beth, and Bess."

"But -" began Elizabeth, wanting to request that she keep the nickname she had always known.

"You will not interrupt me, girl. If you try that again, I will assign you extra duties." Lizzy nodded meekly, and discreetly pinched herself, hoping to wake herself from the nightmare into which she had descended.

"Now I will take you to the kitchen so you might become more familiar with your duties. For the rest of today you may shadow Betsy. Tomorrow I expect you to be in the kitchens half-an-hour before dawn."

Once they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Pringle left Elizabeth in the care of Mrs. Cook. Elizabeth smiled at the name, wondering if that was the cook's true name, or if everyone had forgot her true name long ago. However, as Lizzy listened to a description of her duties, she soon felt she had little about which to smile. Hearing all of the jobs she would be expected to perform nearly made Elizabeth dizzy.

Nevertheless, when Mrs. Cook asked Elizabeth if she had any questions, she could only think of one, "Will I be permitted to write to my family?" The cook looked at her new charge in astonishment, firstly because she could not imagine any master would prevent a maid from contacting her family, and secondly, because she doubted the new scullery maid could write.

"Of course, you will! You are not a slave."

"Good," answered Elizabeth. "Where might I find writing supplies?"

"You will have to buy those with your own wages." Only upon hearing this answer did Elizabeth ask after her wages.

"I assume you will receive six pounds per annum. That is currently the starting pay for scullery maids at Matlock. Since the mistress brought you in especially, you may receive a different wage." The housekeeper would later confirm that was how much Lizzy would receive.

Lizzy calculated in her head that she would receive 10 shillings per month. She then estimated that by the time she purchased paper, ink, a quill, a blotter, and sand, she would need at least three months salary. She sighed. It was unfortunate that Mrs. Cook had not taken Elizabeth's query more seriously, for she could have told the young girl that Mrs. Pringle kept writing supplies in her office which the lower servants might use; the servants were expected to pay only a pence for each page they wrote.

Wondering how many months she would need to wait to write to her relations, Lizzy then asked when she would be paid.

"On the first of each month," Lizzy tried not to show her discouragement. It would be more than three weeks before she received her first wages. When the girl did not reply, Mrs. Cook decided the conversation was ended and instructed Eliza to help Betsy.

The two girls worked together the rest of the day, only being allowed to take a break for dinner. When Betsy's assigned duties were complete, Betsy was allowed to spend the remainder of the evening as she pleased; however, Mrs. Cook insisted that Elizabeth remain in her presence so that she might better understand her duties.

It was nearly ten o'clock when Elizabeth was finally allowed to retire. The day's work had tired her so much that she crawled into her cot without even bothering to remove her dress. The dust and cobwebs would have to wait for another day.

What seemed like only moments later, Elizabeth felt herself being shaken gently, "Eliza, Eliza! You must wake up!" Elizabeth groaned, then sat up to stretch. Since she had not undressed, she needed only to tidy her hair.

"Must we wake so early?" Elizabeth wondered. "What time is it anyway?"

"It's quarter to six." Elizabeth sighed, it was not much earlier than her usual waking time, but she had not recovered from her previous day's labors. "We must have the fires started and water boiling before Cook rises at dawn." Lizzy nodded.

Once the tasks Betsy mentioned were complete, the scullery maids broke their fast with some toasted brown bread and milk left from the previous day. By the time they had finished the cook entered the kitchens and began barking instructions. Lizzy learned that her daily tasks would include not only cleaning the kitchens and helping to prepare meals; she would also be expected to clean the other servants' chambers and empty their chamber pots. She would not, for the time being, be required to fetch water for bathing or washing, because her attempt to fill the pots that morning had shown her too weak to operate the water pump. Nevertheless, Mrs. Cook assured her that she would soon gain sufficient strength.

As she drudged through her tasks Elizabeth tried to cheer herself. As she emptied the chamber pots, she sang a light-hearted ditty she had learned from Mr. Clipper. She thought singing a glad song might make her feel glad. Unfortunately, her music was not appreciated by all who heard it.

"Stop that dreadful racket!" yelled one of the upstairs maids who overhead the new scullery maid's melody. Lizzy, whose voice had always been called sweet before, instantly quieted.

Then, later in the morning while scrubbing dishes, Lizzy tried to make conversation with Betsy who worked alongside her. Betsy did not speak much, which Lizzy had first attribute to shyness. Thus, Lizzy was undeterred in her quest to make conversation. However, when Mrs. Pringle entered the kitchen to observe the maids, she heartily chastised poor Lizzy.

"Eliza, keep your mouth shut until your work's done. If your mouth is running, your hands won't be as nimble as they ought." Elizabeth thought this was nonsense, but still, she obeyed.

At nine-thirty when Elizabeth completed the last of her tasks, not only was her body more exhausted than it had been the day before, now her spirit was also weary. Moreover, though she did not recognize it, bitterness began to grow in the poor girls heart. Lizzy felt some small resentment toward Mrs. Cook and Mrs. Pringle who had dealt harshly with her; she felt even greater resentment toward Lady Matlock and Mr. Clipper who together had put her in this position.

Lizzy's routine did not change the next several days. To her astonishment, she was expected to continue with the same tasks even on Sundays. Lizzy had never before missed church except when she was seriously ill. At the Clippers' home, the Sunday meals had always been simple ones which required minimal labor, so that even the maids could attend services with the family. At Matlock no such provision occurred. The only duty which might be left undone on the Sabbath was the cleaning of the servants' quarters. The omission of this task allowed the Eliza to have a three hour midday rest.

Her first two Sundays at Matlock, Elizabeth used her free time to gain some extra sleep. However, by her third Sunday she had become enough accustomed to her new life that she did not feel quite tired enough to nap. Instead, she ventured outdoors. Elizabeth did not know if she was allowed to wander through the gardens, so she stayed on the path, which led her to the church. She opened the large doors and walked into the sanctuary. Since she belonged to the Matlock household, Elizabeth settled herself in the Matlock pew. She found a prayer book and began reading.

Elizabeth's quiet reading was soon interrupted by the vicar, who shooed her away, accusing her of polluting the earl's pew with her filthy presence. Elizabeth cried as she left the church. She supposed she was filthy, she had not bathed since leaving the Clippers' home. Furthermore, she had not removed her dress in weeks. Since it was her only dress, Elizabeth did not know how she was to wash it, nor when she might find the time. Once she returned to her work, she was too busy to think about bathing on laundering her dress; so she simply became dirtier as the weeks went past.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

 _August 1804_

"I think I am dying, Betsy," Elizabeth moaned to her roommate one morning after she had been at Matlock about six weeks. She had woken with dreadful pains in her middle and stickiness between her legs. Only upon realizing the stickiness was blood did Lizzy reach the conclusion of which she informed Betsy.

"Eliza? What's wrong?" Betsy rushed to Elizabeth's cot, full of concern. Once there she quickly diagnosed Eliza's problem and laughed aloud. Lizzy had never heard Betsy laugh before, and she worried for a moment that her roommate might be possessed with evil spirits.

"It's just yer monthlies, Eliza. No need to be frettin'."

"My what?" asked Lizzy in confusion.

"Monthly bleedin'. Is this yer first time? It mus' be, else you'd not be frettin'."

"What?"

"Didn't yer mum never tell ya 'bout 'em?"

"Mama died when I was only six."

"Yer sisters then?"

"I've had no contact with any of them since Mama died. Besides, most of them were younger than me."

"Oh. Then who taught you so much."

"The Clippers. They owned a haberdashery, and I lived with them. But they never mentioned anything about bleeding."

"I s'pose ya had to speak nice to work in the shop? Is that why ya talk like fancy folk?" Lizzy saw no reason to explain her whole history, so she nodded.

Betsy then told Lizzy all she knew about menstruation, which included an explanation of how babies were made. Lizzy listened in wide-eyed fascination and disgust.

"I would never let a man do that to me!" she exclaimed. Betsy giggled.

"Yer not s'posed to unless yer married anyhow. Me mum says I'll want to someday, but I can't imagine likin' no one enough to even kiss let alone..." This time Lizzy giggled.

"Betsy, what am I supposed to do now?" Lizzy looked down at her blood-stained attire. She wished she had not got into the habit of sleeping in her gown.

"Have you got anything else to wear?"

"No." Lizzy thought about the many gowns she had left behind in Derby.

"You can wear my nightdress until your gown and underthings are clean. With a few pins we should be able to make do."

"And what if I ruin it?"

"Oh silly me!" Betsy exclaimed. "Let me show you the rags." Betsy then showed Elizabeth where she could find cloths to absorb the blood and how to fasten the cloths securely.

"I feel like a baby," laughed Elizabeth, thinking of the diapers the Clipper girls had worn.

"Now we'd better hurry. Mrs. Cook will be fit to be tied if the fires aren't lit when she comes down."

The girls had not finished lighting the fires when the cook entered the kitchen; she was as angry as had been anticipated. Seeing Eliza's improper attire further irritated her. Nevertheless, when she learned the cause of the maids' tardiness, Mrs. Cook became surprisingly sympathetic. She prepared a cup of willow bark tea for Eliza, and personally oversaw the cleaning of the girl's attire to ensure that the laundry maids removed the blood before the stains had a chance to set.

After her morning chores, Mrs. Cook instructed Eliza to eat her dinner quickly and then report to the housekeeper's office. The young scullery maid had grown to fear Mrs. Pringle, but she readily obeyed the cooks instructions.

"Come in, Eliza," Mrs. Pringle spoke sternly.

"You wished to see me?"

"I learned from Cook of your current situation," Lizzy blushed brilliantly.

"Your attire today is not acceptable."

"I am sorry, ma'am."

"Why were you sleeping in your gown?"

"I have no nightgown," Lizzy answered, though she could have slept only in a chemise.

"Then what is this?"

"It is Betsy's. I have borrowed a chemise and petticoat from her as well. I only have one of each."

"And where is your apron? That would at least give you great modesty. And your stays?"

"I have no apron. And I have never worn stays. Do you think I need them?" The housekeeper carefully examined Eliza.

"Perhaps if you were properly clothed, they might not seem so necessary. However, I feel you ought to be wearing them. You also must have an apron and another set of underthings."

"I have no objection."

"Very well. I will purchase the necessary items."

"Thank you!"

"Do not thank me. The cost will come from your wages for the next several months." Lizzy tried not to think about the letters to her relations which she would have to postpone writing.

"I can sew my own things to lower the cost."

"You can sew?"

"Of course, I can."

"Very well," Mrs. Pringle doubtfully assented, "I will provide materials. Once you have completed a petticoat, you must bring it to me for inspection. If your stitching is satisfactory, I will allow you to make the rest of your garments. You may have the afternoon off to sew. Of course, that will take another six pence from your wages." Lizzy smiled brilliantly.

A few minutes later Lizzy was seated in the kitchen basting her new petticoat. She felt glad that Mrs. Clipper had patiently taught her to quickly make tiny delicate stitches. Elizabeth had originally despised the sewing lessons. Now stitching the simple garment helped her to feel more attached to her past. Moreover, she felt deeply satisfied to be actually creating something, rather than simply doing work which would need to be done again on the morrow. The chamber pots she emptied each day would be filled again, the dishes she washed would be dirty after the next meal, and the beds she made would be messed the next time someone slept in them. Conversely, when this petticoat was complete, she would be able to wear it again and again without needing to restitch it. Thus, she exerted herself not only to make the stitches neat and even, but to make the garment attractive. There was no time to embroider it and no money to purchase lace; however, she could add pleats and ruffles.

Even with the added flourishes, Lizzy completed the garment in less time than she would have completed her routine duties. When she finished, she carried the new petticoat to the housekeeper's room.

"I expected you sooner," Mrs. Pringle declared. "I trust you have completed your petticoat." Lizzy nodded. "Well let me see it," the housekeeper intoned, not bothering to hide her low expectations. Lizzy proudly handed the garment to Mrs. Pringle.

The housekeeper held the petticoat and examined it closely looking for defects. Finding none, she calmly stated, "You are a good seamstress, Eliza." Lizzy supposed this was high praise coming from Mrs. Pringle, so she thanked the housekeeper for the compliment.

"May I begin on my other necessities now, Mrs. Pringle."

"Yes, of course. However, tomorrow you will need to return to your regular duties, so you will need to complete your sewing in your spare time." _What spare time?_ Lizzy wondered.

"Very well," Lizzy replied. Then returned to the kitchen and began working on a chemise.

A short time later, Betsy joined her.

"How are ya? I've been worryin' 'bout ya." Lizzy smiled.

"This is the best day I have had since coming here."

"Truly? Is the pain gone?"

"No, but it is not unbearable. Besides, I have been able to spend half of my day sewing."

"You must love sewin' to be so chipper."

"Not particularly. I do prefer it to most of my duties, though. Honestly, though, I am most happy knowing you are my friend." Betsy smiled.

"I'm glad I could help."

That night Lizzy fell asleep contentedly, thinking about the friendship she and Betsy had begun. She felt amused that such a disgusting and personal matter had finally enabled her to come to know her roommate.

Lizzy and Betsy's friendship continued to strengthen after that day. Though not allowed to speak while working, the two managed to communicate nonverbally through smiles, nods and other small gestures. Moreover, their mealtimes and other free moments were filled with lively chatter. Elizabeth learned all about Betsy's family, and Elizabeth shared hundreds of stories about her life with the Clippers in Derby. Lizzy also told her friend as much as she could remember about her sisters. Nevertheless, she kept her father's status secret, for she feared that Betsy would view her differently if she knew Lizzy was a gentleman's daughter.

It took a fortnight, and a little help from Betsy, for Lizzy to complete sewing all of her garments. When the task was complete, Lizzy promptly returned all of the items she had borrowed from the housekeeper. Despite being relieved that she would no longer have to sacrifice all of her free hours to sewing, Lizzy was saddened that the project was complete. If she were not already so indebted, she might have requested more supplies so that she could begin a new product. However, as matters stood, she would not receive any further wages until after Christmas.

As Lizzy was departing Mrs. Pringle's office, Lady Matlock entered, without acknowledging the scullery maid, and excitedly announced, "Richard has been granted leave. He shall be home in a week. James is going to stay here for the entire time."

"That is good news." Lizzy did not think Mrs. Pringle seemed especially pleased.

"We will be inviting a large party of friends and relations. They should begin arriving in four to five days." Lizzy saw only the tiniest hint of agitation cross the housekeeper's brow, before she quickly disguised it.

"For how many guests shall I prepare, milady?"

"About thirty I suppose. Maybe fifty. I must begin composing invitations now. I shall speak to you again on the morrow." Lady Matlock then swiftly departed. Lizzy smiled as she mentally compared the countess to a stately and elegant whirlwind.

Mrs. Pringle did not appreciate Elizabeth's smile. "Please wipe away that grin."

"I am sorry, Mrs. Pringle. I merely found Lady Matlock's behavior a touch amusing." Mrs. Pringle had been more angered than amused by the great lady's actions. She had only a short time to make arrangements for an unknown amount of people, and her mistress clearly had no intention of involving herself in the preparations. Mrs. Pringle had only served as housekeeper at Matlock for a year, and she had not yet grown accustomed to her ladyship's manner. Nevertheless, it would not do for the young girl to know any of this.

"Do not speak so of your mistress."

"I had not intended to be impertinent," Elizabeth defended herself sincerely. Her calmness of manner impressed Mrs. Pringle, for the young maid displayed neither defiance nor contriteness.

"You must be careful of your speech. We are exceptionally fortunate in our situation. You would not wish to risk such a plum position thoughtlessly."

"Fortunate?" demanded an astonished Elizabeth, losing her polite manners for a moment.

"Of course," Mrs. Pringle immediately responded in a rebuking tone, "The wages here are at least twenty-five percent above what is common, and Lady Matlock does not allow anyone to be misused. None of Matlock's gentlemen would ever act inappropriately to a servant as many do; furthermore, any manservant who acts improperly to a maid is dismissed immediately. It is a very good situation." Lizzy examined the housekeeper quizzically as she spoke; despite the enlightening speeches from Betsy, she could not quite understand Mrs. Pringle's statements about misuse.

"I am sorry. I have not been in service long enough to have gained an appreciation for my position here."

"Were you not in service for years for a tradesman in Derby?"

"No, ma'am. I lived with them as part of the family." Elizabeth had always believed herself part of Mr. Clipper's family, until the cruel words he spoke on the day she left with Lady Matlock. After being sent away, she came to view her situation differently, but the more she reflected on her past, the more certain Lizzy became that she had been treated more as a family member than as a servant.

"Yet, when you arrived here, you claimed a fair amount of experience in the kitchen." Elizabeth blushed.

"I wished you to think well of me."

"That does not justify dishonesty."

"I wasn't exactly dishonest," intoned Elizabeth, drawing out the word exactly.

"Either you had the experience or you did not," Mrs. Pringle edgily rebuked.

"I did do everything I claimed to have done, but not often. I had to scrub pots and pans once as punishment when I had been unkind to the maid. I learned how to start the fire in the stove after Mrs. Clipper birthed her oldest child. She was very ill and the maids needed to devote most of their time to carrying for her and the baby, so they taught me how to light the stove and how to make toast. However, I only did it a handful of times. I usually only helped in the kitchens when the Clippers were going to be entertaining guests, and there was extra work to be done. Well, I also liked to help knead the dough on baking day sometimes. I never helped with the washing; Mr. Clipper said it would ruin my hands. I did help the maids lay out the garments once in a while. Mrs. Clipper thought it was important for me to assist so that I would be able to direct maids to do it properly if I ever needed to." Throughout this narration Mrs. Pringle stared at Eliizabeth in amazement.

"Could you tell me more about the education and training your received. Who taught you and what have you learned?"

"I began to read when I was four. When my mother began to teach my eldest sister, I sat beside and watched. I learned how to read before Jane did. Then Mama decided I should learn how to write. Writing was much more difficult for me than reading, but by the time I turned six I could write well enough to send letters to my uncle in London. My penmanship was probably atrocious, but I was proud of the skill."

"After I began reading, my father let me sit with him in his book room, and he helped read more difficult books. One day I entered the book room and found Papa working on some ledgers. He told me he did not have time to assist me, because one of the accounts was not balancing. I asked him to teach me to balance the ledger so I could help. He was too busy that day, but he promised to help. After that Papa taught me my numbers and taught me to add and subtract. He then let me help with the books sometimes. At least he said I was helping, I know now it must have been much more difficult for Papa to have me helping me than it would have been to do it alone."

"After I was orphaned and came to live with Mr. Clipper he helped me to learn more arithmetic. He did not have me helping in the store at first. I spent the days with his sister, Mrs. Bloom. She had poor eyesight, so I read to her. She mostly liked to hear me read novels. Mr. Clipper did not approve of the novels, but he let me read them because it made his sister happy. Mrs. Bloom could not teach very much, because of her eyesight, but she did teach me manners and etiquette. She also made me memorize a great many facts."

"What sort of facts?" asked Mrs. Pringle who had been listening silently.

"The names of the kings of England, a lot of other historical information, some scripture verses. Oh, she also taught me how to sing. How to breathe the right way and hold out my notes. She did not know how to read music, and I doubt she could have taught me if she had, but she sang beautifully, and she taught me what she knew. Actually, the parson's wife heard me singing once, when I was ten or so. She offered to give me music lessons for free if I would mind her children two afternoons each week. I did not particularly enjoy the lessons, but Mr. Clipper made me do it. I took the lessons for about one and a half years. She taught me how to read and understand music. She also taught me to play the pianoforte. I am not particularly skilled at it, but I can play scales. She stopped giving me lessons when her husband died, and she moved away to live with some other relations." Elizabeth paused for a moment, remembering how the new vicar had told her that she might practice at the parsonage any time she wished; she had not liked the pianoforte, so she had neither taken advantage of the offer nor had she informed Mr. Clipper of it, knowing he would have forced her to practice often. Suddenly, Elizabeth was weighed down by the understanding that she had thrown away an opportunity she might never have again.

Mrs. Pringle sensed an alteration in the girl's mood and prodded her to speak further, "Is that the extent of your training?"

"Oh no. When I turned eight, Mr. Clipper decided I was old enough to help in the shop. Then he taught me how to assess the value of items, and how to negotiate prices. He trained me how to properly display and arrange items in the store to make them appeal more to customers. He taught me how to make sales, how to record purchases, and then how to wrap them neatly without wasting extra paper."

"And then did you spend most of your time working in the haberdashery?"

"Certainly not. I still spent quite a bit of time with Mrs. Bloom, of course. There were times when I spent nearly all day in the shop. Once or twice I had to work six hours or more with no break, but such times were unusual, especially after Mr. Clipper married. His wife spent hours instructing me in sewing, netting and embroidery. She attempted to teach me to tat lace as well, but that was an abysmal failure. I confess I never tried very hard to learn, though, so I suppose it is my fault. Mrs. Clipper was so patient. She was never affectionate; for a long time I thought she disliked me. However, when I was twelve I had a dreadful case of the measles, and she sat beside me and nursed me herself all through it. After that I asked her to teach me how to nurse someone who was ill. She taught me a lot of things about how to comfort someone in distress, and which oils and balms to use for which ailments. I always had trouble remembering, so she made a little book for me. I wish I still had that book, for if I tried to heal someone I would probably use peppermint oil when I ought to apply a mustard plaster. At least I was less of a dunce at making rosewater and such things. Mrs. Clipper taught me that, too. And how to hang and dry herbs and flowers. I hate the smell of dried lavender. However, I was glad she taught me how to dry it and make sachets because we had a French maid for a few months and she offered to teach me how to speak French if I made a sachet for her. I definitely had the better end of the deal, though I think she liked having a chance to speak her own language. Mr. Clipper said that I probably should not let on to others that I know French." Lizzy paused for a moment in embarrassment, but Mrs. Pringle did not interject. "He said that she probably taught me a low class version of French and not what ladies and gentlemen should speak. I still am glad to have learned it. Perhaps that will do me better now anyway."

"And how exactly did you end up here?" A part of Lizzy dearly wished to reply 'by carriage', but she swallowed her sarcastic response and replied honestly.

"The day before Lady Matlock brought me here, I opened a shipment of supplies, looking for lace, which I knew I was not to touch."

"You stole lace?"

"On no, ma'am. I would never. I sold it to Miss Davis. I placed the money for it in the till. I had no idea the lace had been ordered by Lady Matlock. I did not know that until the next day. Mr. Clipper was very angry. He slapped me and declared I was nothing to him. I had not seen him so angry. I do not know how it was decided, but Lady Matlock informed me that I was to come live at Matlock. I was not even allowed to say good-bye." Lizzy began sobbing violently. Telling her story had drawn up a plethora of contradictory emotions. She could not reflect on her life with the Clippers with any clarity of mind. Lizzy truly hoped Mrs. Pringle would be satisfied with what she had heard and not ask any further questions.

Mrs. Pringle was almost done asking questions, hearing Eliza's story had shamed her. She realized that she had had unfair expectations of the young girl and had not treated her properly. Mrs. Pringle knew exactly why she had behaved in such a way; the housekeeper had been sorely vexed when Lady Matlock had announced that she was to find a position for the girl without warning. She had taken her frustration out on the new scullery maid.

In addition to making Mrs. Pringle aware of her own poor behavior, the maid's recital had provoked some new suspicions in her mind. Though she hated to think ill of her mistress, Mrs. Pringle suspected that the lady had acted wrongly in her dealings with Elizabeth. Something in the story just did not add up. However, she had too many things to deal with at the moment; further investigation would have to wait until after Lady Matlock's house party.

"Thank you for telling me your story so fully, Eliza. It has shown me that you possess valuable talents I had not suspected. While the guests are here I may assign you some unusual tasks."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And since that work may require you to be upstairs where the master and mistress may see you, or even their guests, you must take a bath."

"Where? When? How?" Mrs. Pringle looked at Elizabeth in surprise. She had never liked baths, but it had been so long since she had taken one, that she longed to be clean.

"Did no one tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Any time you are not doing required work and the laundry tub is not otherwise in use, you may use it to bathe. You are, of course, required to pump your own water." Lizzy sighed. She had not yet managed to successfully pump water, but rather than confess this to Mrs. Pringle, she resolved to ask for Betsy's help.

"Thank you."

"Now get back to work, Eliza. You have wasted too much of my time."

As Eliza scurried away, the housekeeper began to make plans for Lady Matlock's house party. There were a good many tasks which would need to be accomplished before the countess provided a list of attendees; however, Mrs. Pringle could scarcely make adequate preparations without knowing whom to expect. Thus, she began making a list of those whom she guessed the countess would invite. She knew that it should include Lady Matlock's siblings and their families, and she supposed it would also include all of the earl's siblings, although Lady Matlock was rumored to have fallen out with Lady Catherine De Bourgh. However, beyond these, the housekeeper had much greater trouble predicting which friends and neighbors might be invited. Nevertheless, she felt reasonably certain the list would include a large number of eligible young ladies for Lady Matlock very much wished to see her sons well settled.

 **Author's Note: Thank you to all have read and reviewed so far. I truly appreciate all of the constructive criticism I have received. I have made a few alterations to Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 based on the reviews. I had no idea that flatware was an Americanism. I also made a correction in Chapter 2 regarding Elizabeth's wages. Elizabeth is not terrible at math, the error was mine.**

 **I have had several reviewers state that my story is not historically accurate. It is obviously not 100% historically accurate, if it was, it would not be fiction. However, I have done extensive research, and have found some reviews contradict what my research has shown. I am certainly open to looking at other sources if you have them. Also, please remember that this part of the story is still the Georgian era, it is not the Regency or Victorian period.**

 **In 1800 a typical scullery maid worked 16 hours a day (usually 6 AM to 10 PM) with one half day off per week. The average pay was 2 shillings per week. Maids in this era did not wear uniforms. Some employers provided clothing (usually their own castoffs), many did not. The pay received reflected this. In dress, the only way to easily distinguish a maid from her mistress would have been the apron. Most scullery maids owned only one gown, but multiple sets of underthings. The gown was usually only washed twice a year, though it would be wiped/brushed regularly. The scullery maids typically bathed once a month. Upstairs maids, like their employers, typically bathed once a week, most often on Saturday.**

 **Several of you have asked about Kitty and Lydia, as well as Mrs. Bennet. We will find out what happened to them eventually. For now, I will assure you that they are all safe. I think the story itself has or will answer most of the other questions soon. However, feel free to continue asking questions and correcting my mistakes. Your criticism helps me to make my story better.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

 _September 1804_

"Has the viscount arrived yet?" Betsy eagerly inquired as Elizabeth scurried down the stairs. Elizabeth shook her head and raised an eyebrow.

"Not that I am aware." Elizabeth hoped her friend had not developed tender feelings toward Lord James Fitzwilliam. Two months before, Lizzy might have daydreamed about a love story between a viscount and a scullery maid; her life as a servant had driven away her belief in fairy tales. She could no longer even imagine such an attachment could yield anything better than disappointment for Betsy.

Elizabeth discovered her fears were unfounded a few minutes later when a handsome young man entered the kitchen. Betsy clearly recognized him, for her face became bright crimson the instant she spied him. To Elizabeth's chagrin, her friend became as still as a statue and was clearly incapable of handling introductions.

"Excuse me, sir. May I help you?" Elizabeth inquired.

"My master will arrive in half an hour. Make sure his bath is ready." Elizabeth looked at the man in silence for a moment and then furrowed her brow. The man stared at Elizabeth, dismayed that she had not yet responded to his request.

Finally, Elizabeth asked, "Who is your master, sir?"

"Lord James, of course."

"Very well. I shall see that his bath is prepared. Would he also like tea?"

"I am certain he would."

"And how does he take his tea?" The manservant looked at the maid in surprise, though Elizabeth could not see why.

"With honey and cream as he always has." Elizabeth had never heard of anyone taking tea with honey and cream. Just envisioning the drink prepared thusly made her gag slightly. However, she composed herself quickly.

"Is he riding or traveling by carriage?"

"Should that matter?"

"There is a balm Mrs. Pringle makes to ease sore muscles. She said I should offer it to all the gentlemen who arrive on horseback." When she first learned of the balm, Elizabeth wondered why no one offered it to scullery maids at the end of a long day.

"Lord James always rides."

"Is there anything else your master will be needing?"

"Only the usual," the manservant answered gruffly. He felt this young maid was wasting his time. For he wished to finish the business of unpacking his master's things before the viscount arrived.

"I am sorry, sir," replied Elizabeth, hiding her vexation well. "I have not been informed of the viscount's usual needs. Of course, I could seek one of the more experienced maids, but I would hate to interrupt her work, nor would I wish to delay attending to your master's needs. Perhaps you could tell me what those needs are." The manservant examined Elizabeth for a moment.

"You are new."

"I do not believe I am young enough to be called new, sir," Elizabeth responded cheekily. Elizabeth thought she spied a hint of blush on his cheeks, which rendered him uncommonly attractive. She began to understand Betsy's attachment. However, the look he next bestowed upon Elizabeth made her feel rather dirty, though she could not explain why.

"Indeed. You are not so young as that. Nevertheless, since you are newly employed here, I shall introduce myself. "I am Henry Parker, valet to Lord James Fitzwilliam."

"I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Elizabeth paused trying to determine what she could call her position.

Before she continued, Parker interjected, " _Miss_ Elizabeth Bennet?" Elizabeth blushed realizing she should not have given her full name.

"I am Eliza." When Elizabeth uttered these words, she felt she was giving up part of herself, for though she had been called Eliza for many weeks, she had never before owned it as her name. Now, although she still thought of herself as Lizzy, she had given up hope of every being called by that moniker, nor could she expect to be addressed as Miss like a proper young lady.

"Very well, Eliza, let me explain my master's preferences."

"Thank you," Elizabeth offered with a nod, then she turned to her roommate, "Betsy, would you please fetch the water for Lord James' bath." Betsy nodded, but Elizabeth thought she appeared sullen.

Elizabeth spoke with Parker for several minutes, as they prepared for the viscount's needs. When she had completed the duties attached to the viscounts arrival, she hurriedly scampered away, glad to remove herself from Parker's presence. Despite his handsome countenance, Elizabeth found she could not like the man; furthermore, he continued to watch her in an unnerving manner.

As she exited the viscount's room into the servant's hall, Elizabeth immediately collided with a young man. In the poorly lit corridor, Elizabeth could not examine him carefully, but she would later observe that, in a comparison of physical attributes, this man was in every way inferior to Mr. Parker. Conversely, in matters of character and amiability, this man was certainly the victor.

"Pardon me, Miss. I should have proceeded more carefully," he stated, as though the collision were his fault, and not Elizabeth's, though she knew the reverse to be correct.

"The fault is mine, sir."

"Would you happen to be Eliza?"

"I am she."

"I am Smith, Lord Barkely's manservant. Jenny said you would assist me in preparing for my master's arrival."

"Smith? Have you no Christian name to distinguish you from all the other Smith's about the place."

"Simply call me Barkely's Smith." Elizabeth laughed a little.

"I must now confess you have made me desperately curious, for if your name were William, or Henry, or Joseph you would not hesitate to share."

"Hadadezer." Elizabeth giggled both at the name and Smith's obvious embarrassment.

"Why would your parents name you after one of the enemies of King David?" Elizabeth's knowledge of his namesake impressed him.

"It was my grandfather's name. According to him the name has been in the family since the crusades and was given to some ancestor in honor of a man who saved his life. However, my grandfather always loved to spin yarns, so I suspect it was a load of rubbish." Elizabeth now laughed heartily.

"And did your family call you by such a name? Or did they have some pet name for you? I cannot imagine calling a small child Hadadezer."

"They called me Daisy," the manservant whispered, "I can hardly say if that was better or worse."

"My goodness. Well, Smith how may I help you prepare for your master's arrival?"

Elizabeth was relieved to find that Lord Barkely was far less particular than Lord James, and the only special requests he made were those required by age and infirmity. Indeed, Elizabeth found herself almost disappointed when Mr. Smith no longer required her assistance, for she had enjoyed his company and found the time passed quickly. Nevertheless, she did reflect that Mrs. Pringle and Mrs. Cook likely would have been unhappy with the cheerful, loquacious manner in which she had conducted herself.

Once she had finished preparing for Lord Barkely's arrival, Elizabeth hastened to the kitchen to assist Betsy with her duties. Lizzy was thankful she had been assigned the task of assisting the guests as they arrived, for it granted her a reprieve from the normal drudgery of her life. Thus, she entered the kitchen with a smile on her face and a lightness in her step.

"There you are!" her friend greeted glumly. Elizabeth wondered if Betsy resented the extra chores she had been assigned while Lizzy attended her special duties.

"I am sorry I was away for so long. Smith required my assistance preparing for Lord Barkely. It seems the earl is in poor health and his physician had a number of special instructions."

"Lord Barkely."

"Yes."

"Weren't ye helpin' Mr. Parker?"

"Only for the first bit."

"Oh," Betsy answered with relief, causing Lizzy to understand her friend's poor mood.

"Do not worry, Betsy. Your Mr. Parker is safe from me."

"He's not my Mr. Parker."

"Oh, but you wish he were!" Lizzy answered in a singsong voice.

"Ain't he the han'somest man you ever seen?"

"Not at all," Lizzy fibbed, intending to ease Betsy's jealousy. "I quite prefer Mr. Smith." Lizzy did, in fact, prefer Smith, but only because he seemed so much more amiable. Moreover, she had no romantic notions about either man.

"Eliza, you're needed," Lizzy turned to see Jenny, who was the head upstairs maid, approaching. She colored immediately, hoping in vain that the older woman had not overheard her comments. Unfortunately, Jenny was a prolific gossip, and by the next morning every servant at Matlock would have heard that young Elizabeth was sweet on Mr. Smith and thought him handsomer than the generally preferred Mr. Parker. Smith was flattered by Elizabeth's supposed preference, and it caused him to think more about the young girl than he otherwise might. Conversely, Parker felt challenged by the knowledge, and it planted in him a desire to change her mind.

"Have more guests arrived?"

"Captain Fitzwiliam has arrived with Lady Constance."

"Lady Constance?"

"We didn't know she was comin' home, least Pringle said nothin' of it."

"Who is Lady Constance?"

"The youngest of the Fitzwilliams, of course." Elizabeth looked in surprise at Jenny, wondering how she had worked at Matlock for over two months without knowing her master and mistress had a daughter.

"Oh."

"She's been at some fancy school in London for years, and 'most never comes home."

"Even in the summer?" asked Elizabeth in shock.

"It's said Lady Matlock don't much like her."

"Not like her own daughter?" gasped an even more astonished Elizabeth.

"Yes. Some says it's 'cause she's plain and some says it's 'cause she's crippled, but I reckon it's because Lady Constance don't care a lick for gowns and bonnets and all them fashionable whatnots great ladies are supposed to rave over"

"The poor girl!" Jenny shook her head at Eliza calling her mistress's daughter poor.

"Anyway, you're to be her maid so you best be gettin' her room ready, and seein' she's ready for dinner. I'll take care of the colonel and the Darcys. But you'll still need to tidy their chambers tomorrow." Lizzy dashed off in a hurry to complete her new assignment. However, when she was halfway up the stairs she turned around and dashed back.

"Is there a problem, Eliza?" Betsy wondered.

"Where's Lady Constance's room at?" Betsy, who had not been able to prevent herself from envying her friend for receiving such a special task, felt somewhat better to see her friend so flustered that she forgot to use the King's perfect English. Thus, she cheerfully offered Lizzy the information she needed.

When Elizabeth approached the lady's chambers, she heard angry shouts. She hesitated, but decided to enter.

Though she had not known what to expect, Elizabeth was surprised by the sight that greeted her. Lady Constance was a mere slip of a girl, probably no older than sixteen. She had flaming red hair which framed her face in a fringe of frizzles. Lady Constance's skin was as pale as new milk, except for the places where she was dappled with bright pink splotches and the reddish brown freckles which dotted her cheeks. Elizabeth did not notice any deformities, though she would later learn that Constance Fitzwilliam had lost half of her left foot due to an infection she had suffered as a small child.

Lady Constance gasped when Elizabeth entered, but Lady Matlock continued addressing her daughter without pausing. Lizzy understood then that her mistress considered her no more than she did the room's wallpaper.

"You cannot wear that gown, Constance. It is two seasons old and the color is completely unfashionable."

"Why must I look fashionable? There is no one here to impress. The only eligible young man who will be here is Cousin Darcy, and he would no more consider me than he would Georgiana!"

"You must know I expect you to catch Lord Barkely."

"But Mother, he is old enough to be my grandfather."

"You cannot expect to attract anyone better!"

"Of course, Mother," Lady Constance mumbled quietly. Elizabeth saw Lady Constance's pained expression, and remember how she had often been hurt by Mr. Clipper's cruel words. A desire to comfort the girl surged within her.

"So you must absolutely look your best. You must discard this old gown. None of your gowns are suitable, but I will have several of my own gowns brought to you. Surely something can be made suitable for you. You will have to tighten your stays." Lady Constance blushed and bit her tongue. She was not wearing stays; indeed, she had never worn them, and she had no wish to start.

Elizabeth began unpacking Lady Constance's trunks while Lady Matlock continued to lecture her daughter. However, as soon as Lady Matlock left the room, Elizabeth rushed to the young lady's side, handing her a handkerchief.

"How would you like your hair styled this evening, my lady?" asked Elizabeth, hoping Lady Constance's request would not be too complicated, since she was not skilled in styling hair.

"I believe I should like it to be cropped close to my head, almost shaved. I should dearly love to see my mother's face." Lizzy giggled.

"But then you would need to wait years to grow it back. Besides it seems like a crime to cut such beautiful locks."

"Beautiful? My hair is ugly. It is so bright and orange."

"Nonsense! Other ladies only make snide remarks about red hair because they wish their hair was such a rich, vibrant color."

"Oh? And why do the boys tease me?"

"Perhaps because they are too afraid of you?" Lady Constance laughed awkwardly.

"How could anyone fear me?" Lizzy almost made a snide remark about the young lady's mother, but she thankfully remembered her place and bit back her retort.

"Perhaps because of the inner beast you are concealing." Lady Constance blushed and also appeared somewhat offended.

"You think I have beastly tendencies?"

"Forgive me, my lady. I only meant to make a joke. I have barely met you, how could I have made any judgments."

"Do you think I am unaware that servants gossip?" Lady Constance retorted scoffingly.

"My lady, an hour ago I was not even aware that the earl and countess had a daughter."

"Oh," Constance murmured, seeming to deflate. Lizzy noticed her manners, and wondered if the girl would prefer to be infamous than to be unknown.

"I have no reason to believe you are anything other than a very good sort of girl."

"I am sorry to say that you were correct, though."

"About what was I correct?"

"I do have an inner beast. Sometimes I want to grab my mother by the hair and yank on it. And rub lotions on her face that make it burn. And force her to wear dresses that are so itchy that she wishes to scratch herself to death. Sometimes I detest my mother." Lizzy wanted to tell Lady Constance that she also disliked Lady Matlock, but she knew speaking such things would be entirely inappropriate.

"I have an inner beast, too. I think all of us do. But for now, we need to make you as elegant as possible so that no one will suspect you have one. While we are waiting for your mother's gowns, may I fix your hair." Lady Constance nodded, grudgingly.

"Please be careful with the tongs." Elizabeth wondered if Lady Constance would be angry that she did not know how to use curling tongs. She also wondered if she could make it through the ordeal without confessing her lack of knowledge.

"I am afraid I have no intention of using tongs. I hope you do not mind."

"I do not mind at all, but I fear my mother will not be so sanguine."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then admitted, "I do not know how to use curling tongs. I have never even seen them used. I will do the best I can with your hair today, but you will probably need a different maid for the rest of your stay." Lady Constance smiled at Lizzy.

"I am sure whatever you do will be fine."

Elizabeth carefully unpinned the lady's hair, and was surprised as soft beautiful curls cascaded over her shoulders. Elizabeth had expected all of Lady Constance's hair to be as dry and frizzy as her fringe.

"Your curls are lovely, my lady."

"The back part of my hair only curls because it has been coiled so tightly for so long. My hair is straight as a stick, otherwise."

"That does not make it less lovely now."

"Please do not flatter me. What is your name, again? I do not remember."

"I am Eliza, and I do not mean to flatter. Is it not my job, at least for today to make use of your finest features? We will find a way to showcase these curls."

"Do whatever you like. If my mother dislikes it, I will blame you." This was spoken with a smile, so Elizabeth smiled back. Then she began braiding a portion of the lady's hair, beginning at her left ear, and working up across her forehead. She was attempting to mimic a style she had seen old Mrs. Bloom wear in an attempt to hide her greying forelocks. Lizzy worked all of Lady Constance's fringe into the braid, and then she continued to braid around her head, like a crown. As she braided she noticed more than a dozen marks across the lady's forehead. There were two small blisters, an angry red welt, several small pink marks, and several more old scars which had already healed.

"What has happened to your head, my lady?"

"What do you mean?"

"All these scars!"

"The come from the tongs."

"They are burns?" Lady Constance nodded.

"Who burns you? Why do you allow it?"

"The maids at school, of course. I do not have my own maid there, but Mother arranged for my hair to be styled every day according to her specifications."

"Does your mother know they are burning you?" Lady Constance shook her head.

"I have tried to convince her that I do not need to have my hair constantly styled. I have told her I despise the curling tongs. Mother says I am not to complain and such things are part of being a lady."

"But you have not told her about the burns." Again Lady Constance shook her head.

Once the braid circled Lady Constance's entire head, Lizzy continued braiding a little farther. Then she pinned the braid down and toyed with the rest of the hair. Lizzy pinned and unpinned several different times. She added multiple twists; then she removed some. Lizzy simply could not make Lady Constance's hair look like it did in her mind. However, eventually she decided that she needed to finish the coiffure. So she called the hairstyle good enough. The braids looked fine, and the curls were lovely. However, there was at least twice as much hair cascading down Lady Constance's right side as her left. Lizzy decided she would pretend to have done it on purpose.

"Would you like to see yourself in the glass, my lady?"

"No thank you," Lady Constance answered without thought. "I want you to stop working on my hair."

"Very well. Shall we select a gown now."

"You choose. I am certain they are all equally dreadful."

Elizabeth looked at the ten gowns which Lady Matlock's maid had delivered. She immediately rejected six of them because she did not feel the colors flattered Lady Constance's complexion. She then examined the remaining four and selected the one which seemed the least scratchy. That its pale green hue complemented the lady's coloring was merely an added bonus.

After removing Lady Constance's underthings, Elizabeth could not help pausing to stare at the young lady. Never had she seen a lady with such a perfectly formed figure. She had no failures of symmetry, and her skin was lustrous and creamy. Elizabeth stood in awe of Lady Constance, much as one might in the face of a great work of art. Unfortunately, Lady Constance misunderstood her stares.

"I know it is terrible."

"Excuse me?" Lady Constance held out her disfigured foot. "I had not noticed, my lady."

"You cannot deny you were staring."

"Indeed," Lizzy admitted with chagrin, "I was merely amazed by your loveliness. You are like Aphrodite."

"Aphrodite?" Now Constance knew very well who the Greek Goddess of love was, but she was astonished to hear a maidservant make such a comparison.

"Aye, my lady. When I was a small girl Papa sometimes called Mama his Aphrodite. I asked him why, and he showed me a painting of the goddess. He said Mama looked just like her, but she did not have such perfect curves as you." The recollection brought Elizabeth both pleasure and pain.

"Eliza! Stop spouting such nonsense. I know I have a dreadful figure. Mother tells me so. I cannot abide wearing corsets."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth paused and blushed, then continued, "We could find a way to lift your bust without restricting your waist? Your waist is trim enough that your mother's dress will fit easily. I do not know why she thought otherwise."

"Could we try putting the gown on without any stays, please?"

"I cannot imagine it fitting, my lady. Nevertheless, I see no harm in making the attempt."

After helping Lady Constance into a clean chemise and petticoat, Lizzy slid the selected gown over them. She first tried to pull the gown down over the lady's head, but it proved to be impossible. Lizzy could not stop herself from giggling. Then she lay the gown down and asked Lady Constance to step into it.

At first Lizzy did not think the gown would be usable; however, after careful consideration, she decided that a few alterations would make the gown passable. If she took in some fabric in the shoulders, and at the waist the bodice of the dress could hold up Lady Constance's bosom and shorten the length of the gown sufficiently to avoid hemming. It would place the waist of the dress just under Lady Constance's bust instead of at her true waist, but Lizzy had seen similar styles in a few of the magazines in Mr. Clipper's haberdashery.

Lizzy eased the gown off of Lady Constance, explaining her plan as she did. Lady Constance favored any plan which would not require her to wear the dreaded stays, so she gave Elizabeth permission to do as she wished. Then she extracted her sewing box from her still unpacked trunk, and handed it to her maid.

Elizabeth sewed feverishly, so that Lady Constance might be dressed in time for dinner. As she sewed, Lady Constance sat and read. Lizzy could not tell what she was reading, for the title was written in Greek. At least, Lizzy thought it was Greek, though she was not entirely certain. For a brief moment a well of envy erupted within her, but she pushed it down, reminding herself that at least she did not have anyone burning her forehead everyday.

Lady Constance sighed in displeasure when Elizabeth informed her that her gown was ready. However, she stood and allowed Elizabeth to dress her without complaint. As with her hair, she opted not to use the looking glass before departing from her chambers.

Once Lady Constance departed, Lizzy began earnestly unpacking her trunks. Lizzy was relieved to see that the lady's trunks contained far more books than they did gowns, for she felt much more confident in her ability to put these away properly. However, she did try her best to stow each item correctly.

Elizabeth spent several hours attending Lady Constance's belongings, and thus missed eating dinner with the other servants. The servant's meal had long since been cleared away. Thus, she took herself into the store room to fetch some of the brown bread which the maids ate for breakfast. While she was in the store room several servants entered the kitchen, loudly discussing the Fitzwilliam family and all of their dinner guests. For reasons she could not explain to herself, she remained hidden in that little room until the voices died. Once they had, she emerged into the kitchen and was surprised to find it not vacant.

"Mr. Smith," she stated in surprise, then hastily added, "Has your master settled in well?"

"Indeed he has," the young man answered. That Elizabeth thought to ask after Lord Barkely's comfort pleased him. "He dined with the family, of course, but he retired as soon as the lady's withdrew. The trip was quite fatiguing for him."

"Lady Constance will be relieved by that," Lizzy murmured without thinking. Then she colored in embarrassment, and attempted to apologize.

Nevertheless, Mr. Smith did feel offended on behalf of his employer. Lord Barkely was a kind gentleman who doted upon the younger two Fitzwilliam children; Smith could not bear to see his master mocked.

"Why should Lady Constance be pleased with my master's absence?"

"I fear I have carried myself into quite a quagmire, sir. If I do not reveal the who truth, you shall not believe I meant no slight to Lord Barkely, yet revealing the truth could provide considerable embarrassment to Lady Constance."

"I would think the lady should feel embarrassed for harboring negative thoughts about a man who has always been generous to her and who thinks of her quite as his own granddaughter. She has never struck me as the sort of selfish child who would resent an old man's company."

"I did not mean to imply anything of the sort, Mr. Smith. I truly should have kept silent. It is only that Lady Matlock has this idea that Lady Constance ought to be trying to attract your master's notice. Lady Matlock wishes her daughter to become the next Lady Barkely." Mr. Smith was greatly taken aback. He almost disbelieved Elizabeth's statement.

"I take it Lady Constance does not favor the match?"

"I do not know for certain. I do not believe Lady Constance is interested in marrying anyone at present. Lady Matlock's suggestion clearly surprised her. Moreover, she is not the sort of girl to readily put herself forward to anyone. The idea discomfits her. Furthermore, Lady Constance believes herself to be hideous and unattractive. I expect she believes Lord Barkely would never consider her. Thus, she is in an uncomfortable bind. If she does not put herself forward and attempt to flirt with Lord Barkely, she risks Lady Matlock's displeasure; however, if she does put herself forward, she risks appearing foolish before a respectable gentleman."

"I doubt she needs to fear. As I said before, Lord Barkely dotes on Lady Constance, he would not interpret any overtures as flirtations." Mr. Smith paused thoughtfully. "I wonder if I ought to inform my master of Lady Matlock's machinations.

"For what purpose?"

"Perhaps if he is aware, he may be able to help Lady Constance along enough so that she could satisfy her mother's demands without feeling she needs to completely sacrifice her dignity."

"I do think that would probably be good." Lizzy's belly then rumbled loudly, and she looked down in embarrassment. "Pardon me, sir. I have had nothing to eat since breakfast, and I may be called upon at any time to help Lady Constance undress." As she spoke, Elizabeth seated herself at the table where the maids usually ate their lunch.

"Please do not let me keep you from your meal." Mr. Smith then excused himself, but his mind remained focused on the young maid he left in the kitchen. Eliza's clear, proper English and fine manners set her apart from most of the young women he knew. Moreover, she was friendly and pleasing to the eye, and he believed he would enjoy becoming better acquainted with her. Of course, some of Smith's growing fondness undoubtedly resulted from a sense of gratitude for her supposed preference, for he had enough vanity to be flattered by the admiration of a pretty young girl.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

Elizabeth stepped out of bed with a smile on her face even though she been up far later than normal the night before. She had been nearly certain that Lady Constance would inform her that her services as a lady's maid were in adequate and that another maid would need to be selected for Lady Constance. Instead, Lady Constance had been bright and cheerful when she rang for Eliza's assistance, and she had enthusiastically praised Elizabeth's work as a maid.

"Eliza, how did you manage to shelve all the books correctly?" Lady Constance had chirped enthusiastically.

"I saw that your other books were divided by language and were shelved alphabetically by author, and so I did the same with these. Are they truly all correct? I was not at all certain about the Greek books? And there was one book I was not sure was Spanish or Portuguese." Lady Constance reviewed her books once again, and saw that there were in fact three books which had been placed slightly inaccurately.

"Had you not pointed out your error I am sure I would not have noticed. I will be pleased to have you as my maid. Besides, my mother actually complimented my looks tonight. I do not believe she has ever done so before. But she said, 'that gown quite becomes you.' She did say I need more gowns, though. You must accompany me, Eliza, when I go to the dressmaker. I utterly loath the dressmaker. She pinches and squeezes. And she and Mother talk about me like I am not there. I nearly always despise the dresses they select. If it were not for my Aunt Darcy, I would not have a single gown in my wardrobe I could tolerate."

Thus, the following morning Elizabeth had risen early, hoping to finish her morning chores before Lady Constance needed her assistance. The prospect of a day spent shopping excited Elizabeth, even though she would not personally benefit from the endeavor.

In her haste to begin working, Elizabeth had failed to realize that most of her assigned chores could not be completed before the Fitzwilliams and their guests arose for the day. After all, a chambermaid certainly could not make up a bed whose owner still lay within it.

Since she could not begin her own assigned work, after she had eaten breakfast, Elizabeth started Betsty's, hoping her friend who return the favor after she woke. One of the chores was the bring in water from the pump, and so Elizabeth stepped outside with a large bucket.

Elizabeth had fetched water a few times before with no difficulty; thus she did not anticipate having trouble. However, despite making several attempts, Elizabeth could not seem to bring forth water. Believing she needed to use more force, Elizabeth jumped as she raised the handle, hoping the force of her weight would be enough. Unfortunately, she landed inelegantly in the dirt, and not even a drip had come from the spigot.

"You seem to be having difficulty with the pump this morning," a deep voice behind Elizabeth intoned. She turned abruptly, surprised to see a young gentleman behind her. She supposed he must be one of Lady Matlock's guests who wished to ride before breakfast.

"Yes, sir," Elizabeth answered, scrambling to her feet and offering a slight curtsy.

"Do you require assistance?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. It is always more difficult to draw water when the pump has sat idle overnight. The water which collects in the pipe drains down over time. So it requires more force to bring it up."

"Is that because of gravitation forces?"

"You are familiar with the writings of Sir Isaac Newton?" inquired the astonished young man.

"Not familiar precisely," Elizabeth answered with a blush. "When I was working in Mr. Clipper's haberdashery, he always insisted that we never leave lengths of lace hanging over night, but that we fold them neatly instead. I asked him why, when we would have to rehang them in the morn. He explained Newton's theory of gravity to me then, and said that the gravitation force would pull on the lace and cause it to wear more quickly. Have you read Sir Isaac Newton's works?"

"Only as much has been required at Cambridge." Elizabeth sighed.

"It must be wonderful to be required to read. And to have the opportunity to learn so many fascinating things about the way the world works. Mr. Clipper did not attend university, but he said that if he ever had sons he would do his best to ensure they could." The man looked pensively at the young maid. Though she could not be aware of it, her words had instigated a paradigm shift within him. Before, he had always considered his Cambridge studies another duty required of him as the heir to a large estate. He now saw for the first time that the incredible opportunity to learn and study as he did was offered to only a few privileged people. He resolved at that moment to devote himself to learning as much as possible during his remaining year at Cambridge.

"I suppose that I am blessed."

"Thank you, again, for your help, sir." Elizabeth told the man, who had not only started the pump, but had also filled her bucket while she had been rambling.

"Perhaps you might do me a small favor in return?" Elizabeth eyed the man warily.

"That depends upon the favor."

"Could you have some of Mrs. Cook's ginger-apricot preserves and a few biscuits brought up to my room. I reckon breakfast will not be served for another four hours at least, and I am not accustomed to keeping such late hours." Elizabeth smiled in relief.

"I would be pleased to fulfill such a simple request, even if you had not offered assistance. However, I first require something more from you." The gentleman looked at the maid curiously, and she giggled.

"And what is that?" asked the man almost curtly.

"Your name, sir." At this, the gentleman also laughed.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy. May I know yours?"

"Eliza."

"Good day, Eliza." Mr. Darcy offered, politely.

"Good day, sir. I will not forget your preserves."

After they parted ways, Fitzwilliam thought no more about the young maid, except to reflect further on her remarks regarding the privilege of being educated. That the young woman had a different background than most scullery maids seemed obvious to Fitzwilliam, but it did not make him curious. After all, his parents frequently offered positions, either temporary or permanent, to members of local families who had fallen on difficult times.

By the time Elizabeth returned to the kitchen with her pail of water, several other maids had already risen and were breaking their fast. Elizabeth asked one of them for help acquiring the items Mr. Darcy had requested. Then, she asked which room had been assigned to Mr. Darcy and carefully set off up the stairs with a tray.

When she came to the room to which she had been directed, Elizabeth did not even consider knocking; after all, she knew Mr. Darcy had already risen, so she fully expected to find the room vacant. Thus, when she stepped into the room, she had been completely stunned by the sight which greeted her.

On the bed in the center of the chamber, a man and woman slept soundly, entangled in one another's arms. This sight would have surprised, but not shocked, Elizabeth had the two not been completely unclothed.

Elizabeth can scarcely be blamed for the reaction this sight prompted in her. Upon seeing the naked pair, she squeaked loudly and dropped her tray. The crockery smashed to pieces, and the preserves were flung about in all directions. She immediately knelt and began to clear her mess as best she could. Then without looking up, she fled from the room, and dashed to the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, Elizabeth briefly explained her unfortunate mishap to Mrs. Cook, though she failed to mention the sight which had caused her clumsiness. Mrs. Cook had been unusually sympathetic in response.

"Don't Fret, Eliza. All of us break things sometimes. Mrs. Pringle will tally up the expense later, and the cost will be deducted from your salary," Lizzy sighed in discouragement, unaware that she seemed like a petulant child trying to avoid punishment. She was merely thinking about how many more months she would need to work before she could afford to write a letter.

"Well get on with you," the cook snapped, shooing Elizabeth away, "I am sure the young master is eager for his vittles."

Elizabeth then rushed away. She made up another tray, just like the first, then after learning the location of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's room, she carried it upstairs. Elizabeth knocked loudly before entering. After waiting an appropriate length of time and not hearing a response, Elizabeth entered the room cautiously, sighing in relief to find it vacant.

Elizabeth quickly began tidying the room. She had nearly completed all the necessary tasks when she heard a gently rapping from the servants' entrance to the room.

"What are you doing, Eliza?" inquired the maid who had just arrived.

"I am freshening Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's chambers."

"But I am assigned to this room!"

"But I was told to care for the Darcys' chambers."

"Ah. Well, I was told to care for this room. I think you were to take care of Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne. Since, you're almost done do you want to switch?" Elizabeth sighed in relief that she would not have to embarrass herself by facing the ones whose privacy she had inadvertently invaded.

"I would like that. I am trying to complete my tasks before Lady Constance needs me."

"Very well. I should let you know, this Mr. Darcy has no man, so if you are caring for his room you will have to brush his clothes and mend his clothing as needed."

"That should be no problem."

While she was dusting the small table beside Darcy's bed, Elizabeth spied the copy of _Robinson_ _Crusoe_ which rested there. The sight of it had flooded her with memories of her father, most particularly of sitting upon his lap reading aloud. Not for the first time, Elizabeth began to wonder what had truly happened to her father.

How had Mr. Bennet died? Why had Grandfather Bennet not taken herself and her sisters to live at Longbourn? Surely he could have hired a governess to care for them. Had there been a fire at Longbourn? Or some other grave tragedy that had destroyed both her father and grandfather?

Elizabetth brushed away a few stray tears, and returned to her work. She softly began to sing as she worked and did not hear Fitzwilliam Darcy return to his chambers. Then suddenly she turned and saw him, seated at a table eating the biscuits she had brought.

"Pardon me, sir. I did not know you had returned."

"Please do not feel that you must be silent on my account. Your music does not hinder my appetite." Elizabeth nodded, but did not resume her song.

When she had finished her necessary work in the room, Elizabeth asked Darcy, "Is there aught I may do for you before I depart?"

"I think not. Thank you. I shall ring if I need anything else."

"Very well."

As Elizabeth turned to leave, Darcy stopped her, "Actually, there is something."

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you discretely inquire from her maid, what a suitable gift might be for my cousin Constance?" As he spoke, Darcy extracted an object from the trunk at the foot of his bed. "After seeing her last night, I realized she has become a young lady, and might not appreciate the gift I had chosen." Darcy then held up a beautiful china doll with flaming red hair.

"It is marvelous, sir. I think you ought to give this doll to your cousin. You might tell her that it reminded you of her, and you wished her to have it even though she is too old to play with dolls."

"She will not be offended?"

"I cannot say for certain. However, if you wish to give her another gift, I suggest a book. One that broadens the mind. She would appreciate such a gift far more than any bauble you might otherwise purchase." Darcy nodded, and Elizabeth scampered off down the servants hallway, eager to complete her work.

 **Author's Note: I am sorry it has been so long since the last post. My six children have been taking turns being ill these past weeks, and I have not had time to write.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

Elizabeth managed to survive the rest of the morning without any more serious mishaps. She was a little later than she had hoped in arriving to assist Lady Constance with her toilet. However, the lady did not mind at all, for she was happily occupied with a book. Indeed, she was actually disappointed that her maid had arrived.

At first while Elizabeth attempted to dress Lady Constance, Constance attempted to continue reading.

"What is this book which has so enthralled you, my lady?" asked Elizabeth, trying not to allow her frustration to show, though it would be easier to dress Lady Constance if she sat her book aside.

"I am reading Johannes Kepler's Mysterium Cosmographicum."

"Kepler is the one who first discovered that the sun is the center of the universe, is he not?" Constance looked at Elizabeth in disgust, as if someone who could make such an elementary mistake must have sawdust for brains.

"You are confusing him with Copernicus. Kepler built upon the theories of Copernicus and proposed theories about the orbital paths of the celestial bodies. He discovered that the orbits are elliptical rather than circular."

"I always assumed they were circular."

"You assumed incorrectly," replied Constance haughtily.

"I suppose I did. Does he explain why the planets have elliptical orbits?"

"No. He did not understand it himself. However, several scientists since then have generated some plausible theories." Elizabeth then asked Lady Constance about the theories. Lady Constance was happy to explain all manner of scientific matters to her maid, and Elizabeth was delighted because dressing a conversant lady was far simpler than dressing a lady whose eyes were fixed on a book. Initially, Lady Constance spoke in a patronizing manner, as a tutor might address a particularly dull pupil; however, as she continued to speak, her love of the subject matter overcame her frustrations, and she spoke with real passion about astronomy and celestial mechanics. Conversely, Elizabeth had initially found the subject dreadfully dull, but she could not help absorbing some of the other lady's interest and enthusiasm. Thus, both were disappointed when Elizabeth finally completed Lady Constance's toilet.

"Would you like the looking glass to see yourself, milady?" Constance paused a moment before refusing Elizabeth's offer.

"I shall have to see myself altogether too much today at the dressmaker's shop." Constance sighed forcefully before continuing, "I shall be poked and prodded and dolled up to within an inch of my life. And as if that were not enough, they shall force me to express my opinions on every single article. However, if I confess the truth –that I find all of them perfectly horrid, they shall waste all of their breath trying to convince me that my taste is flawed." Elizabeth could not help giggling. Constance could not decide whether she should be offended by her maid's laughter, and as a result her next words were a little more curt than she meant them to be.

"Go change so that we may go as soon as possible. The carriage should be waiting as soon as you are ready."

"Very well, my lady," replied Eliza, hiding the displeasure caused by Lady Constance's vacillating manners.

"I am going to eat breakfast with my family. I do not know if any of my aunts or cousins will be joining us at the dressmaker. If it is just mother and I, you may ride in the carriage with us. Otherwise, you may ride in the box with the coachman." Elizabeth thought she would rather ride with the coachman in either case, for the weather was fair. However, she did not give voice to her preference, since she thought doing so might make her seem ungrateful.

Elizabeth scampered up the stairs to the attic room she shared with Betsy. After quickly cleaning her hands and face, she changed her dress and repinned her hair. As she peered in the looking glass, Elizabeth swallowed back a twinge of envy. She wondered how she would look if she had a maid devoted to dressing her and styling her hair. For a moment she vainly wondered if she would look even prettier than Lady Constance if she had such an opportunity.

However, she quickly pushed the thought from her mind, determined to be the best lady's maid she could. After all, the conversations with Lady Constance had been interesting, and even more, styling hair was far more palatable than cleaning chamber pots. Moreover, if she performed well, she might be given the job more permanently.

Elizabeth stepped outside just as the carriage was pulling up before the front door. To her surprise, Mr. Parker descended from the carriage box, and offered to help her up.

"Are you driving today, Mr. Parker?"

"I am. I have a few errands in the village, and so I offered to drive the ladies into the village to give Old Tom the morning off." Parker's thoughtfulness surprised Elizabeth, and she reflected that perhaps he was not so bad after all. In truth, he had not made the offer of assistance until after learning that Eliza would accompany the ladies. His vanity still smarted from the knowledge that the pretty, young maid preferred Smith to himself. He hoped to ease the wound by flirting with her and convincing her of his own merits.

"How kind of you! I am sure you could have completed your errands in half the it will take to drive us into the village."

"It is no hardship, since I will have your company. Besides, I have always enjoyed driving."

"I have never learned to drive. Indeed, I have not often ridden in carriages. I would far prefer walking."

"Perhaps once the ladies are in the carriage, I should let you off. Then you may walk to the village, and I will stop and let you board before they disembark. I am sure Lady Matlock will never notice your absence, and you will undoubtedly arrive at least a quarter hour before the carriage." Elizabeth smiled at Parker.

"That is a tempting offer; however, I doubt Lady Matlock would be best pleased to see me arrive at the dressmaker's shop with a muddy hem."

"If she even noticed. However, I am glad you are not quite so eager to escape my company, Eliza."

"Indeed not. I fully expect you to entertain me for the duration of the journey."

"And how shall I entertain you, my lady?" Parker asked executing a half bow with an air of obviously false humility.

"I see you have been honing your acting skills, perhaps you would like to perform a theatrical for me?"

"Only if you will play along. Do you know any scenes by memory?"

"I do know the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, but…"

"Yes?"

"I only know Romeo's lines," Elizabeth answered playfully.

Parker looked at Elizabeth quizzically, "I think that you are just hoping to hear -" Here Parker adopted a soft falsetto, "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Elizabeth tried to keep a straight face, but then gave herself over to hearty chuckles.

"I assure you, sir, I was not dissembling, though I may have been willing to in order to hear such a performance." Elizabeth then started to recite Romeo's speeches with all the natural dramatic sensibility of a thirteen -year-old girl. Parker smiled at her widely.

When Elizabeth paused, Parker leaned toward her and inquired, "Is this truly the only scene you know?"

"I know a few lines here and there from other works, but this is the only one I know by heart. There was a girl near my age who lived down the street from us in Derby who dreamed of someday being an actress. She convinced me to learn the part of Romeo so that she could play Juliet. She hoped to actually perform the play for the neighbors to see, but when Mr. Clipper learned of my involvement, he absolutely forbade my participation. He declared it completely scandalous." He had also said, Elizabeth now remembered, 'No member of my family shall engage in such degrading behavior!' . Elizabeth shook her head sadly, wondering what it meant that Mr. Clipper had, at that moment, considered her his kin.

"Usually it is only gentlefolk who consider it scandalous for their womenfolk to act."

"I am not sure you are correct. I think a good many tradesman feel the same."

"You may be right, Eliza. I have never spent much time with the middle classes. I have spent my time either among the servants or with those of the first circles."

"Working in the haberdashery, I saw all manner of people."

"I imagine so. Perhaps you could tell me more about your time working there."

"If you wish." When Mr. Parker insisted that he did, Elizabeth began eagerly tell Mr. Parker all about the work she had done in Mr. Clipper's store. She told her stories with flare, and her descriptions of the various characters were so vivid that Parker felt as if he truly knew those people. Not only did their follies amuse him, their sorrows provoked his sense of compassion. Before long his plan to charm Eliza was completely forgot, for he was too busy enjoying her company to engage in any artful behavior.

Elizabeth also enjoyed the conversation greatly, for Parker was an educated man, and though she had grown to love Betsy and had become friendly with many of the other servants, Elizabeth had found it necessary to disguise the degree of learning she had received lest she be thought pretentious. However, Parker's education seemed far superior to her own and his understanding was equally sound. Moreover, because he was a manservant, Elizabeth felt free to address him as an equal. She could not have spoken with such openness to Lady Constance.

One story Elizabeth shared was about an injured Naval Officer who had been nearly blind, but who did not wish for his mother to become aware of his poor eyesight. Therefore, this Mr. Buckle had not only insisted on hearing detailed descriptions of every item he purchased, he had also insisted that Mr. Clipper send him a messenger immediately after his mother shopped in the haberdashery, so that he would be prepared to compliment her appropriately on her purchases.

"On one occasion," Elizabeth explained, "I was the designated messenger, and I rushed as quickly as my short little legs would carry me. Still, I scarcely arrived before The gentleman's mother, so I rushed through a description, so I could depart before she noticed me. Of course, I was too slow."

"So the ruse was discovered?"

"Not precisely. Mrs. Buckle was surprised to see me, but her son was quick with an explanation. He told her I had been delivering some items he had ordered. Then, oh my…" Elizabeth paused to take a breath, "The next morning, this sweet little old lady berated poor Mr. Clipper for sending me out on an errand when she could easily have delivered the items herself." As she remembered Elizabeth offered a most unladylike snort, "She was shaking her fist and waving her cane. She did not mean to do it, but she sent the cane flying and it knocked over an entire display of buttons. She meant to harass Mr. Clipper for overworking me, but then she created twice as much work. The dear lady felt so poorly about it that she insisted I come to her home for tea that afternoon."

"And did you go to tea?"

"I did not wish to go. I thought it would be dreadfully dull. However, Mr. Clipper absolutely insisted I attend."

"And was it as dull as you expected?"

"Not at all. Mr. Buckle told the most fascinating tales from his days in the Navy. And Mrs. Buckle served the most delicious gooseberry tarts I have ever tasted." Elizabeth happily sighed.

"I have never been to tea."

"You have never had tea?"

"Of course, I have drank tea."

"But you said-"

"I drink the tea my master does not finish. But no one has ever invited me to join them for tea."

"I must remedy this oversight!" Elizabeth exclaimed cheerily.

"Excuse me."

"You must come to tea in the kitchens on Sunday afternoon. The tea will be weak, the leaves having been used thrice over, and there will be no gooseberry tarts only brown bread. Still, we shall dine in fashion." Parker hesitated. He did not wish to forgo the opportunity to spend more time in Eliza's company, but he feared taking tea alone with her might leave them both as subjects to gossip. Her next words obliterated that concern and made him feel rather foolish.

"I shall invite Betsy, and Jenny, and..." Elizabeth listed a few more servants, "and Mr. Smith might like to come. Are there any others among the servants you might wish to invite?" Knowing that Elizabeth had no intention of taking tea solely with him both relieved and disappointed him. Moreover, her inclusion of Smith among the guests reminded him of her preference for the other valet. Nevertheless, her enthusiasm warmed him, for she reminded him very much of a little girl hosting a tea party for her dolls.

"I must confess, Eliza, that I spoke a falsehood earlier."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. I have attended tea before." Elizabeth frowned, thinking that her paltry preparations could not compare to an actual tea. "When your lady was a little girl, whenever Lord James and I were home on holiday, she insisted on us attending her tea parties. There was no actual tea involved, but the biscuits were plentiful." Elizabeth smiled, she wished to ask Parker more about his childhood, and was disappointed to see that they had reached their destination.

Nevertheless, Elizabeth's attention was quickly diverted to the problem of helping Lady Constance obtain a wardrobe she could tolerate.

Although Elizabeth had been warned of what to expect by Lady Constance, the experience still surprised Elizabeth. As soon as Lady Matlock entered the shop, she began issuing directions to the dressmaker. Before long the countess and the dressmaker were seated with their heads together and a stack of fashion plates between them.

The two women spoke quickly, and occasionally the dressmaker would nod and then write hastily on a sheet of paper. Neither Elizabeth nor Constance could see the fashion plates; moreover, they could hear nothing of the words spoken. However, both Lady Anne Darcy and Lady Catherine De Bourgh stood close enough to observe Lady Matlock's plan. At first, Lady Constance's two aunts would occasionally interrupt with their own ideas about their niece's wardrobe. Lady Anne's advice seemed to be based more on her ideas of which styles would flatter Lady Constance more, while Lady Catherine's input seemed to be based more on her ideas of the utility of the garments. Elizabeth found Lady Catherine's comments most diverting, for the lady did not appear at all concerned with the utility of her own garments; she was bedecked with lace, ruffles, jewels, and feathers. Nonetheless, Elizabeth found the lady's actual ideas incredibly sensible, particularly when Lady Catherine intoned that, "A young girl should be dressed for comfort and ease of movement and not in order to impress others. Her father does not wish for her to enter society yet. Why should you not honor his wishes by allowing Lady Constance to dress in the practical gowns of a child?"

Lizzy might have been less impressed by Lady Catherine's statements had she comprehended the great lady's motives more fully. Lady Catherine did favor practicality, but she was even more concerned that Lady Constance might prove a daunting rival for Miss Anne De Bourgh.

When it became completely clear that Lady Matlock and her sisters-in-law had no intention of requesting Lady Constance's input of the creation of her own gowns, Elizabeth felt she must do more to help the poor girl. She was sorely tempted to slam her fist on the table and have her say. Only Elizabeth's strong suspicion that such behavior would be more harmful than helpful kept her temper in check. Instead she excused herself for a moment and returned with one of the dressmaker's assistants, pencil and paper, and a stack of fashion plates.

Elizabeth then asked, "My lady, which of these designs do you favor?"

"It does not matter. I do not care."

"Very well, then. I think we should request to have a dress made up for you just like this one." Elizabeth then placed the most elaborate of all the designs in front of Constance. Lady Constance said nothing, but her countenance bore a peculiar expression.

"I can see the design does not please you. Perhaps if we added some feathers to the decolletage?" Here Elizabeth turned to the dressmaker's assistant, "Do you sell ostrich feathers dyed bright orange?"

The assistant shook her head sadly, then replied, "I am afraid we don't, but there are some regal violet ones." Elizabeth caught the assistant's eye, and knew her ploy was understood.

"Oh lovely," exclaimed Elizabeth with a sincere grin. "Perhaps we could use orange for the trim. These ribbons which draw across the bosom would look best in a vibrant orange."

"Of course, Miss. Then perhaps instead of this celery green color, we could make the bodice of the dress more of a true green."

"You are brilliant! And could we make the sleeves puffier? Like what they used to wear in the Elizabethan era?"

"Certainly. And we have some tiny little bells we might attach to the ends of the sleeves. Then whenever she moved her arms she would jingle like the harness of a sleigh horse."

"Could we put bells along the bottom edge of the gown as well?"

"And perhaps with an orange bow above each bell?"

"Of course not," Elizabeth remarked seriously.

"No?" The assistant wondered in surprise.

"No indeed, at least half of the bells should have purple ribbons above them."

"Then we could embroider some blue and pink stripes or swirls between the ribbons."

"Why not embroider designs in blue and pink onto the ribbons?" With this last comment, Elizabeth could not restrain her laughter, and she let out an unladylike snort. The dressmaker's assistant likewise began to giggle. Lady Constance who had been staring bewilderedly at the two girls, sighed in relief as she finally understood that their suggestions were not meant in seriousness,

Finally the young lady spoke, "This is a very fine creation you have designed." Elizabeth raised her brows in surprise. "Nevertheless, I feel it is much better suited to my aunt. Shall you show it to her?" Elizabeth's eyes widened in terror as she imagined presenting the monstrous design to either the elegant Lady Anne or the formidable Lady Catherine.

However, when she saw Lady Constance's smirk, Elizabeth replied, "Perhaps later. In the meantime, now that you confess that you do have opinions of your own, we can design some gowns which will please you."

"Very well. I think that first dress was absurd, even before you began adding embellishments."

"I agree. But I do think the celery green complements your complexion." Lady Constance nodded, and Elizabeth asked the dressmaker to bring swatches of all the fabrics of similar colors.

"I like the style of this gown," Lady Constance then offered, gesturing to a simple muslin design. "I looks as though I could live in it."

"I thought you would like it. The high waistline will be flattering to you as well. However, I do feel that a different neckline would be more suitable for a girl your age." Elizabeth then selected another design. "Perhaps we could use this design for that portion of the gown."

"As long as it is not that color!" Constance exclaimed, causing Elizabeth to giggle, for the dress in question was almost the shade of a tangerine.

"I guarantee no one who saw you in such a gown would ever forget the occasion." Lady Constance laughingly allowed, then she whispered, "I think I would rather be wholly forgettable."

Elizabeth could not help remembering how disappointed Lady Constance had seemed when she learned that none of the household had mentioned her. "Indeed. However, it would be much better to be remember for your true merits."

"Of course." Lady Constance and Elizabeth then continued to work together creating designs with the dressmaker's assistant helping where necessary. When they finished, they had designs for four day dresses, two evening gowns, one riding habit, two spencers and two cloaks. Elizabeth had sketched the designs and written startlingly explicit directions about which fabrics should be used, where any tucks should be placed, and how the trim should be attached. She wanted the clothing to be as comfortable as possible for Lady Constance, and this desire impacted all of the decisions she made.

Finally, Elizabeth was satisfied with each of the designs, so she asked the assistant to take them into a private room measure Lady Constance. The assistant was reluctant to begin measuring without her employer's assistance; however, she could see that she was still much occupied with the older ladies.

While Lady Constance was being measured, Elizabeth also broached the subject of her need for new undergarments. Lady Constance watched with awe and skepticism as Eliza helped the assistant to design a new form of stays which would be less stifling and more modest than those her mother had purchased for her in the past.

When Lady Constance's measurements had been recorded and Eliza had completely designed her new underthings, the young girls returned to the countess and her sisters-in-law.

"Where have you been?" Lady Matlock demanded of her daughter.

"Being measured, Mother."

"Do you think this girl can measure you adequately?" the countess scoffed.

"I believe so." The dressmaker then vouched for her assistants ability. Lady Matlock reluctantly decided not to require a second measuring of her daughter.

"Would you like to see the gowns we have designed for you, Constance?"

"Not particularly."

"I wish you would take more interest in your appearance, my dear."

"I am certain I will dislike all of the dresses you have planned. I know you will insist on purchasing them, though, so I see no reason to argue with you. Would you like to see the dresses I have designed for myself? I know you will disapprove, but I will pay for them with my own money." Elizabeth watched as Lady Matlock's affront grew and experienced no small amount of offense of her own. She disliked hearing Lady Constance claim the designs as her own. Despite her frustration, Elizabeth smiled as she offered the countess the designs she had sketched.

Lady Matlock stared at the drawings silently for several moments. Constance read disapproval in her mother's reaction. In truth, Lady Matlock had very little personal sense of style or fashion. For the last three decades she had listened to the opinions of others about what was fashionable. However, these designs were unique and she did not know how to appraise them.

Thankfully, Lady Anne and Lady Catherine were quick to eliminate the silence.

"My darling," Lady Anne exclaimed, "You have a keen sense of style. I love how you have incorporated so many different designs into these gowns. You will look unique, but without flouting the current trends."

"And I highly approve of the modesty and utility your designs favor, though I do not believe this one would be appropriate for a child your age." Here Lady Catherine held up the first drawing Elizabeth had created. Since none of the colors or other details the girls had discussed had actually been written, the gown did not appear quite so monstrous as it otherwise would have.

"Actually, Aunt, I designed that gown for you. Do you like it?" When Elizabeth saw the twinkle in Lady Constance eyes, she forgave her for taking complete credit for Elizabeth's work. When Lady Catherine smiled at her niece, Elizabeth had to choke back a giggle.

Since Constance's aunts had provided sufficient praise for the designs, Lady Matlock felt no need to offer her own opinions. She could not have guessed how greatly her lack of support injured her daughter, who desperately craved her mother's approval.

As the ladies were departing the shop, Elizabeth overheard Lady Anne compliment her niece, "One day," she insisted, "you shall be the toast of the ton. And all of the young ladies will be scurrying to mimic your style." Elizabeth sighed, unaware that she was being observed by Parker, who was assisting the ladies into the carriage.

After the ladies had entered the carriage and Elizabeth was seated comfortably on the box beside him, Parker asked, "Is aught the matter, Eliza?"

"Is it wrong to want to be acknowledged for the work I have done?"

"Not wrong precisely, Eliza. However, as a member of the serving class, you must learn to accept that the only compliments you shall likely receive will be indirect ones. I have learned to feel proud, perhaps too much so, anytime Lord James is praised for his dashing appearance. The man has never tied his own cravat, and yet he –not I- is praised throughout London for way he wears his."

"Do you not resent that?"

"It is the way of things. I am fortunate to be employed in the service of a man who is also my friend. We were playmates as children, as my father worked as Lord Matlock's personal secretary. When Lord James was sent off to school, I joined him because he could not bear to be without me. Lord Matlock paid for my schooling, but I was expected also to be Lord James's servant. By the time Lord James began to study at University, I had become a full-fledged valet. We may not be of the same social circles, but I believe our friendship is a true one."

"Were there other young boys attending school with you who were also working as servants at the time?"

"None that I knew of. I was never mistreated by the other boys, but it was clear that I was not one of them. Nor did I form many friendships among the other servants, for my education placed me too far above them. You must know a little of what I experienced. You are unlike any young lady I have ever met." Elizabeth smiled; she did know the pain of not quite belonging, but for her the feeling was new. She had never felt so out of place in the Clippers' home. Seeing Elizabeth smile increased Parker's fondness for her.

Throughout the remainder of the ride, Elizabeth pried from Parker more information about his youth and childhood. When the two parted ways after their return to Matlock, both eagerly anticipated spending more time together and were particularly looking forward to having tea on Sunday afternoon.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

Elizabeth's duties kept her constantly busy for the next several days. In addition to a full slate of chambermaid's duties, she was expected to be continually available to assist Lady Constance. Indeed, the work kept her nearly as busy as she had been as a scullery maid. However, because the work was so much less unpleasant, Elizabeth went about it cheerfully. Also, because she was no longer required to answer to Mrs. Cook, she felt free to sing almost as much as she desired, which made her time pass much more quickly.

At mealtimes Elizabeth cheerfully spoke of all her new experiences, while Betsy quietly listened and added little input. Elizabeth attributed her friend's lack of speech to fatigue from the extra chores assigned during the house party. She could not have imagined how her happy ramblings sounded like gloating to her friend, nor did she suspect that Betsy had developed a strong jealousy.

The day following their visit to the dressmaker, Elizabeth spent a good portion of her afternoon sitting at the servants' table in the kitchen, altering another of Lady Matlock's gowns for Lady Constance, since it would be several days before the young lady's new garments were complete. Parker came upon her as she sewed and invited her to bring her stitching to a small alcove upstairs where there was more natural light.

Elizabeth reluctantly accepted the offer, for she liked being in the kitchen, which was the hub of activity for all those employed at Matlock. However, she knew she would complete her stitches more quickly with better lighting. As Elizabeth rose from the table, Parker took her work basket in one hand and held out his other arm to her. Once she was settled in the aforementioned alcove, Parker departed swiftly, and Elizabeth expected to spend the afternoon working alone. Thus, she was somewhat startled when he quickly returned with a stack of garments.

"Mending?" Elizabeth asked.

"Indeed. A few of these items I will be able to repair so that Lord James will be able to wear them again. The rest will become my new wardrobe. I imagine you will have quite a few gowns to alter soon."

"Why would you think so?" asked a confused Elizabeth.

"I simply assumed Lady Constance would offer you some of her old dresses when the new ones are complete?"

"And where would I wear such fine garments?"

"To church if nowhere else."

"Church?" Elizabeth replied wistfully, "I have not attended church since coming to Matlock."

"Truly? Are you not aware that skipping services gives Lady Matlock just grounds to terminate your employment?" Elizabeth stared at him with wide eyes.

"I would love to attend, but I have always had too many chores assigned to me on Sunday mornings." Hearing this astonished Parker.

"I am nearly certain it is illegal for an employer to prevent an employee from attending church more than half of the time unless they provide an alternate religious service."

"Lady Matlock is breaking the law?" asked the stunned young girl.

"Yes, but I do not believe you could prosecute her for it. She would merely place the blame on Mrs. Pringle. Besides I cannot imagine Lady Matlock knowingly violating the law. I rather suspect she is in ignorance. You should plan to attend church this Sunday. I will ensure that Mrs. Pringle leaves your schedule open." Elizabeth smiled at Parker doubtfully, she suspected that Parker's knowledge of the law must be inaccurate, but she was hopeful about the possibility of attending services.

Instead of discussing the matter further, Elizabeth asked Parker to tell her more about the village church and its parson. Although the two continued working on their respective garments, they both quickly lost track of time as they became immersed in conversation.

Their discourse continued until Lord James Fitzwilliam entered the room and belted out, "Parker!" The viscount did not need any further words to convey his displeasure, for Parker had already leaped from his seat and gathered his work.

"Sir, I am terribly sorry. I had not realize it was so late." Parker then turned to Eliza with a smile, "Thank you for your help with the buttons."

"It was my pleasure, sir." replied Elizabeth who was frantically gathering her own items, hoping Lady Constance would not be upset by her tardiness.

Elizabeth need not have worried, for her young mistress had not yet noticed her absence. Unlike Parker, she would receive no dressing down this afternoon. Indeed, when Elizabeth entered her lady's chambers, Lady Constance said nothing about her toilet, but instead spouted eagerly about the movements of the celestial bodies.

"I see you have been reading more about astronomy," Elizabeth commented, as she wordlessly began removing Lady Constance's gown. Lady Constance willingly submitted to her maid's ministrations, barely aware of anything beyond her scientific musings.

The following morning while Elizabeth dusted Lord Barkely's room, she casually mentioned Lady Constance's interest in astronomy to Smith, who was brushing his master's trousers. Mr. Smith wisely did not comment on the peculiarity of a lady studying this subject.

"Do you believe the lady would enjoy having a telescope?"

"I do not doubt she would adore it."

"I shall suggest the idea to my master. There is a telescope at his estate which has been collecting dust for over a decade. I believe he might give it to Lady Constance." Elizabeth practically jumped in excitement as she imagined how delighted her lady would be when she received the telescope. Smith smiled at the young maid's enthusiasm. "Perhaps it will help further his suit." Elizabeth could not tell if Smith jested or if he spoke sincerely, but for Lady Constance's sake she hoped it was the former.

"Are you so eager to have a new mistress?"

"Only if that new mistress brings her pretty maid with her." Rather than accepting these words as a sincere flirtation, Elizabeth now felt certain that the valet was not in earnest. She could not believe herself a true object of interest to the man.

"Do you enjoy working for Lord Barkely?" Elizabeth asked Smith, awkwardly attempting to redirect the conversation.

"He is a fair master. I have not served a better one."

On Saturday, Lady Constance received word that several of her gowns were complete, and so Elizabeth again accompanied her to the dressmaker. The completed gowns delighted the young lady, who nearly glowed with happiness after donning them. Indeed, the young lady decided, though she did not voice it, that she would do whatever it took to keep Eliza by her side. She would even refuse to return to school if Eliza did not accompany her.

On the return trip from the dressmaker, Lady Constance imagined herself being admired for her style and elegance when she wore her new gowns. In fact, for the duration of the carriage ride, her mind did not once stray to weightier matters.

Elizabeth had expected to part from Lady Constance as soon as they returned to the house; however, Lady Constance had other plans. She insisted that Eliza immediately attend her, which frustrated the young maid until she realized Lady Constance's intent.

When the two had entered the lady's chamber's, Lady Constance opened her closet and began flinging out dresses. Elizabeth began to suspect her young mistress had gone mad.

"How may I assist you, my lady?"

"These awful things must be got rid of!"

"What would you have me do with them?"

"Have them given to the poor! I care not where they go so long as I never have to wear them again. I doubt you could find one worth keeping, but if you find one you like, you are welcome to claim it." With this statement, Lady Constance meant for Elizabeth to keep any of the garments she desired, but Elizabeth interpreted it as permission to keep exactly one.

An older more experienced maid might have made a more practical selection; however, Elizabeth found herself drawn to a particular rose-colored silk. She lifted the gown and lightly caressed the soft. fabric.

"Oh Eliza, you must have that dress! I have always adored it, though I looked dreadful in it. I liked to hold it up and pretend I had honey colored tresses, an alabaster brow, and rosy cheeks to match the fabric. In my imagination I looked lovely in that gown, even though in reality it makes me look sallow and contrasts with my awful red hair." This speech stunned Elizabeth who had come to believe that Lady Constance did not truly care about her appearance.

"I do agree that the color does not suit you, madam."

"Then it is settled; you must take this gown. Let me see you in it now." At her mistress's command, Elizabeth removed her work dress and donned the beautiful silk gown. It fit far better than Elizabeth had dared to hope, and would require only minimal alterations. She thanked Lady Constance profusely as she removed the gown.

"Do you still have need of me, my lady?" Elizabeth inquired when she was again wearing her work dress.

"Not at the moment," Lady Constance replied, then walked toward her sitting room, leaving her maid to gather up the discarded gowns. Less than a minute later, Elizabeth heard a shrill shriek of excitement.

"Oh Eliza! You must come!" Elizabeth, carrying an armful of dresses, did as she was bade.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Is it not the most beautiful thing you ever saw? I am determined, now, that I shall marry him after all. If I can convince him to take me, that is. Oh Eliza, you must help me!"

"Excuse me?"

"Lord Barkely has given me a telescope." Elizabeth smiled and nodded.

"A very thoughtful gift."

"Surely he would not expect me to become as dull and boring as mother says I must become to please a gentleman. A man who would give me such a gift would not expect me to stop thinking. He would treat me with respect. Besides that, I would not have to return to school, and I would never have to listen to my mother telling me what to wear."

Elizabeth agreed to help Lady Constance win the hand of the elderly earl, though she felt ill-qualified for the task. Moreover, she questioned the wisdom of Lady Constance's decision. However, Elizabeth offered to assist in any way she could.

After leaving Lady Constance's chambers but before returning to her other duties, Elizabeth sought Smith to inform him of this new development. Smith smiled brightly upon hearing the news, causing Elizabeth to wonder why it brought him so much pleasure.

After thanking Elizabeth for the information, Smith surprised her by asking, Would you walk with me to church tomorrow, Eliza?" Elizabeth's eyes widened. She blushed at this proof of Smith's interest in her. She wondered if it was in her power to make him fall madly in love with her, though she suspected his attachment could not be very strong after so slight an acquaintance. Elizabeth did not consider how cruel toying with the affections of a respectable man would be. Instead, she considered the whole matter a game.

"I should like that very much, sir, assuming I am able to attend church tomorrow. I do not yet know my duties for tomorrow morning."

"Then I shall very much hope for your presence. I will seek you out in the morning then."

The next morning, after learning that she would indeed be able to attend services, Elizabeth prepared herself with extra care. When she requested Betsy's assistance, her friend immediately declined. When Elizabeth repeated her request with a promise to help Betsy with her duties, Betsy practically snapped at her.

After donning Lady Constance's discarded silk gown, and styling her hair as elegantly as she could manage, the thirteen-year-old maid looked like a true lady. Furthermore, since she had bathed after Lady Constance in that lady's rose-scented bathwater, Elizabeth smelled like a lady as well. When she peered in Lady Constance's looking glass, Elizabeth hardly recognized herself.

When Elizabeth entered the kitchens after making her toilet, she was surprised to see Parker awaiting her.

"Are you ready to depart, Eliza?" Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment.

"I promised Mr. Smith that he could escort me to church this morning."

"You had already promised me your company!" Parker answered in a haughty tone. Had Elizabeth not been able to see his hurt and disappointment, Parker's manner would have offended her.

"I promised no such thing!"

"But I spoke with Mrs. Pringle and arranged that you could have this morning free so that we could spend time together."

"Unfortunately, you never spoke of your plans to me. When Smith asked me, I had no reason to decline him."

"Could you not simply have told him you had no wish for his company?"

"I -" Elizabeth began, but was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Smith." She smiled brilliantly at the young man, causing his heart to flutter. Meanwhile, the valet who had not been the object of the smile cursed himself for having thought to entice the young lady away from the man she admired. He decided that he would no longer be so guided by his vanity.

"I hope you enjoy your walk. Eliza, I am looking forward to your tea party this afternoon." Elizabeth grinned and nodded. Elizabeth's display of pleasure lifted Parker's spirits, though after leaving her presence, Parker would ask himself how her happiness had become paramount to his own in such a short time.

On the walk to church, Elizabeth and Smith had a pleasant conversation, though occasionally Elizabeth noticed that the valet seemed to be examining her. The scrutiny embarrassed Elizabeth, and she could not prevent her cheeks from becoming crimson. Despite her wish to increase the man's interest, Elizabeth undoubtedly would have been mortified to learn how alluring he found her natural modesty.

During the church service, however, Elizabeth completely forgot the young man seated beside her. Because she had always attended church regularly before coming to Matlock, singing the familiar hymns and hearing the familiar liturgy granted her a sense of belonging. She would later compare her feelings that morning to a ship which has been tossed about by the waves, but which cannot drift to sea because it is firmly anchored. After all, though much had changed in her life, God was still the same.

The minister did not speak with much feeling, nor was his sermon particularly thoughtful; nevertheless, Elizabeth so relished the opportunity to be listening to a sermon again that she remained riveted.

Conversely, Mr. Smith, who sat beside Elizabeth, could not focus on the church service at all. Only his many years of regular church attendance carried him through the forms of the mass. Of the sermon, he heard nary a word. Instead, Smith watch Elizabeth, debating whether he ought to offer for her. His consideration turned to resolve as he escorted Elizabeth from the church building.

The moment Smith decided he should make Eliza his wife occurred when young Mr. Darcy tipped his hat to her. When she returned his gesture with a deep curtsy and a brilliant smile, young Mr. Darcy had blushed, and it was evident to Smith that the gentleman had not recognized Eliza as a Matlock maid, but instead had supposed her to be a gently bred young lady. The sight impressed the valet so greatly that he nearly forgot to make his own bow.

"Has young Mr. Darcy offended you, sir?" Elizabeth inquired of Smith when the gentleman was out of sight.

"Not at all, my dear," Elizabeth's gasped as Smith spoke this endearment. "I was momentarily distracted. I hope I have not now offended him." Elizabeth thought Smith had no need to worry, for she could not imagine that a gentleman who was amiable enough to assist a maid with the water pump could take offense easily.

"Might I ask what distracted you?"

"Elizabeth, I was thinking about the future."

"The future?"

"As I am certain you have observed, Lord Barkely is in poor health. I do not think his death is imminent, but I would be surprised if he lives more than three years."

"I am sorry. I know you are devoted to your master. Are you concerned about being unable to find another position?"

"I do not intend to find a position. Lord Barkely has informed me that if I remain in his employ until he passes, he will bequeath me a hefty sum. Between that and the money I have managed to save through the years, I should have enough to open a small tailor shop. I would very much like to be my own master."

"I see, sir. That is an admirable goal."

"Such an endeavor would be much easier if I were not undertaking it alone."

"Have you a partner in mind?"

"You."

"Me?" whispered an incredulous Elizabeth.

"I know that we have barely begun to become acquainted, Eliza, yet I have seen enough. You are cheerful, even under duress. You do not shun difficult work, or complain. Nevertheless, your manner is genteel and you are clearly well-educated. And today I witnessed your sincere reverence. The more I know of you, the more impressed I become." Smith's words flattered Elizabeth, but she remained confused.

"And so you wish me to become your business partner?"

Smith smiled and shook his head; then he said, "In a manner of speaking, I suppose I am. I am asking you to be my wife, to be my partner in all my endeavors."

To Smith's chagrin, Elizabeth immediately began sobbing. She was honored by his proposal, and a large part of her wished to accept. After all, it would provide her with the opportunity to leave Matlock, and eventually to leave service altogether. Elizabeth liked Smith and felt convinced she could be content with him; nevertheless, she was far too young to make such a life-altering decision.

Seeing her tears, Smith sardonically replied, "That was not quite the reaction I had hoped to see." This remark only spurred Elizabeth to further tears, which naturally provoked Smith's compassion. He reached for her hand and took it gently into his own.

"Elizabeth, please tell me why my offer has upset you so. Should I have been more romantic?" Elizabeth giggled despite her tears.

"I am sorry, sir. I am flattered by the compliment of your request. Still, I cannot accept. I do not wish to pain you." Smith wanted to ask why he had been thus rejected, but he did not wish to upset Eliza further.

Despite Elizabeth's rejection, Mr. Smith continued to escort her back to Matlock. He tried his best to revert to the pleasant conversation which had characterized their earlier interactions, but Elizabeth could not fail to notice that his tone and manner had changed. This difference sparked guilty feelings within her, for she had purposely endeavored to increase Smith's admiration only to satisfy her own vanity. She had not considered how she might wound him.

When they reached the house, Elizabeth turned toward Smith allowing him to see all of the emotions swimming in her eyes. "You are a good man, Mr. Smith," she softly intoned, "your kindness to me is proof."

"Thank you," Smith replied awkwardly.

"I like you very much, sir. I truly do. Your offer is undoubtedly the best I shall ever receive, and I will probably spend the rest of my life regretting my refusal."

"Then why do you refuse me?"

"I am only thirteen! I am too young to marry!" Elizabeth practically wailed. Then turned crimson in mortification over having lost her composure. Smith himself was equally mortified, for he had supposed the young maid was at least sixteen.

"Eliza, had I known how young you were, I never should have proposed. Please do not waste time regretting your rejection. I have never met a young lady who impressed me as you do. Mine will not be the only offer you receive."

"I wish you the very best, sir. And I do hope you will still join us for tea?" Smith would have preferred to spend some time alone after the embarrassment of Eliza's rejection; however, for the sake of her feelings he promised to attend.

Despite feeling overwrought, Elizabeth carried on cheerfully. She presided over the gathering as elegantly as any regal lady might have done, though the effect was more akin to a little girls's tea party than a gathering hosted by a true lady. She gracefully made introductions and facilitated conversation amongst her guests. However, she did briefly forget herself when Betsy brought out a tin of biscuits.

"Biscuits!?" Elizabeth exclaimed with joy.

"I baked them last night. Cook said I might as long as I agreed to pay for the extra ingredients."

"How thoughtful of you!" Betsy colored slightly, and raised her eyes toward Mr. Parker. Betsy's brief show of embarrassment shamed Elizabeth. For several days Elizabeth had been caught up in her new, exciting position and she had entirely forgot her friend's interest in Mr. Parker. She hoped Betsy did not feel betrayed by her behavior and resolved to atone for it.

"Mr. Parker, we are very fortunate indeed, for Betsy is the best baker at Matlock. These biscuits are sure to be delicious. I am sure I do not know why Cook has not promoted her!"

"From here Elizabeth directed the conversation but did not dominate it. She sought topics which would appeal to all, and continually found ways to praise her dear friend, Betsy. Though Eliza's attempts did much to restore Betsy's goodwill, they did nothing to attract Parker's notice. Nevertheless, Smith could not help seeing Elizabeth's devotion to her friend, and he determined that it would greatly contribute to her happiness if he convinced Lord Barkely to find a position for Betsy. Then, when Lady Constance became Lady Barkely, the two girls could move to a new household together.

Smith's intentions were undoubtedly good ones, but they would not have quite the desired effect. For before that evening was through, Elizabeth Bennet would find that the world had once again been turned on its end.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII

The servants gathered for Elizabeth's little tea party lingered longer than Elizabeth expected, enjoying lively conversation. All but one of Betsy's biscuits had long since been devoured, but that one remained untouched, perhaps because no one wished to take the last biscuit.

To Elizabeth's annoyance a group of young gentlemen, intruded upon their small gathering. Despite the displeasure in being interrupted, Elizabeth intended to greet the men politely and ask if they required assistance. Her good intentions were cast aside in a trice, though, when Captain Fitzwilliam reached out and snatched up the last biscuit. As he bit into the treat, he smiled and moaned happily, causing Elizabeth's ire to rise.

"How dare you, sir!"

"I believe my cousin has every right to consume any food prepared in his family's kitchens." Fitzwilliam Darcy defended.

"He may have the right, but that does not make it right." Elizabeth spoke swiftly, then turning to Captain Fitzwilliam, she added, "You are like the rich man who takes the poor man's lamb rather than slaughtering one of his own."

"What in tarnation is she talking about?" Captain Fitzwilliam wondered to no one in particular.

"She is comparing you to King David who took Bathsheba from Uriah and then had him murdered."

"Oh really?" the captain laughed. His laughter startled Elizabeth who had become so involved in her own pretend play that she had forgot her place. She had no right to rebuke the son of her employers, and the biscuit had not been worth risking her employment.

"I apologize, sir. I ought not to have spoken, thusly." Richard Fitzwilliam was too amused to request an explanation for her words, but Fitzwilliam Darcy would not be so reticent.

"Why were you so upset about the biscuit?" young Darcy demanded in a tone which was firm but not harsh.

"Betsy spent her own money for the ingredients and used her own spare time, of which she has little enough, to bake the biscuits for our little party. There is a pantry full of delightful things for the Fitzwilliams and their guests to eat. Even if that food is on the point of spoiling, we may not touch it." In her mind Elizabeth added _Lady Matlock would rather see her delicacies thrown to the pigs that see them used to feed servants_.

"In that case, would have you have a tray of baked goods prepared for us," replied Fitzwilliam, without offering an apology. The young men then filed out of the room, disappearing as quickly as they had arrived. The servants parted ways soon after, all of the festive mood having evaporated.

Once the mess they had left behind had been cleared away, Elizabeth retreated to the small attic room she shared with Betsy, intending to change into more practical attire before attending Lady Constance. Since Eliza and Betsy were the only ones who typically frequented the little attic room, Elizabeth did not bother looking up to see if the room was inhabited before she began to unfasten her gown. Only once the buttons were undone did she notice that she was not alone. Upon the realization that she was being watched, Elizabeth hastily turned around to rebutton her gown.

"Lord James! What brings you to the servants' quarters? And why did you not call attention to yourself?"

"I was enjoying the show. Please turn around." Elizabeth ignored his request until her gown was completely closed.

"You ought not be here, my lord."

"This home belongs to my family. I may enter any room I choose." Elizabeth nodded, now assuming the viscount wished to rebuke her earlier behavior.

"I would feel more comfortable if you spoke to me in a more open part of the house." Lord James appeared to assent and moved toward the door. Elizabeth hung back, waiting to exit after him. However, once he stood in front of the door, Lord James whirled himself about. Only when she saw that he had no intention of removing himself, and that he had left her no escape, did Elizabeth grow nervous. Still, she did not expect the viscount to do more than chastise her.

"You will stay here with me." Elizabeth raised her brows, but showed no other reaction. "You need not fear me. I have no intention of hurting you. Nor would I force you in any way."

"Why are you here?" inquired Elizabeth, who had been made more fearful by Lord James's words.

"I wished to speak with you in private."

"Surely, you could have nothing to say to me which requires privacy. Why not wait until I came to tidy your chambers?"

"I did not wish to wait."

"Well?" Elizabeth asked when Lord James spoke no further.

"I have noticed that you are obviously educated. You speak intelligently. You are fair-skinned, with none of the appearance or manners of one who has lived her life below stairs. Clearly you do not belong scrubbing the scullery or emptying chamber pots." For a moment Elizabeth smiled, thinking the viscount had recognized her as a gentleman's daughter. Then he continued, "I wish to elevate you from this position."

"You do?"

"I want to put you in a position where you can wear silks everyday. I want to see you living in a fine home in London. I should very much like to escort you to the theatre and the pleasure gardens. You would like such a life, would you not? You would never again have to worry about the dusting or the washing. You might even have a maid dedicated solely to caring for your person." Elizabeth thought the life he mentioned sounded lovely, but she recalled the promises Lady Matlock had made of a better life when she left the Clippers. Such recollections caused Elizabeth to become suspicious, though she still could not divine Lord James's purpose.

"What sort of position would allow such things?" Elizabeth inquired innocently. Lord James assumed she was attempting to be coy, since he did not suppose she could have missed his implication.

"The position of companion, of course?" Elizabeth wondered if he sought her to assist some ailing aunt or cousin. Being a lady's companion was both respectable and genteel, and Elizabeth would be pleased to accept such a position if it were offered to her.

"And whose companion would I be?"

"Mine, of course." The viscount's smile lit his countenance as he replied.

"Y-yours?" stammered the confused young maid. Then comprehension dawned, "You want me to be your mistress?"

"Indeed. As I said before, you were clearly meant for grander things." Elizabeth was shocked that anyone could view becoming a mistress as an elevation in rank.

"I am not interested in your offer, my lord."

"Your pay would be ten times what you earn now. Your life would be so much easier."

Elizabeth wished to yell, but she bit back her bitter retort, "I am sorry, sir. I am not for sale."

"Do not be foolish. There is so much I can give you."

"Perhaps, but there is one thing I have now working as a maid that I would lose forever if I accepted your offer."

"What? Are you thinking of Parker's regard? I assure you he will never marry you."

"I do not refer to Mr. Parker."

"Then what?" Lord James growled.

"The ability to respect myself." The young maid's words greatly abashed the viscount, who began to wordlessly withdraw when the door opened from the other side.

Elizabeth smiled in relief, and was only a little disappointed to see Jenny enter instead of Betsy. "I am so glad to see you."

Jenny spoke coldly, and offered no return smile, "Lady Matlock wishes to speak with you in her chambers. Come now." Eager to remove herself from the viscount's presence, Elizabeth did not hesitate to follow.

When they entered Lady Matlock's chambers, Jenny told her mistress, "I located her. She was entertaining a man in her room."

"I did not invite him there!" Elizabeth exclaimed, but Lady Matlock was already glaring at her furiously.

"Who was he?" The countess angrily demanded.

"Lord James Fitzwilliam, my lady. I swear I did not invite him." Lady Matlock scoffed.

"My son would never importune a maid."

"He asked me to become his mistress!"

"You little liar!" To this Elizabeth offered no response. "I called you here to discuss your failure to properly clean all of the chambers assigned to you. My sister-in-law, Lady Catherine De Bourgh has complained to me that her room has not been dusted once since she arrived." Elizabeth looked at Jenny, who remained silent. Elizabeth knew that the rooms in question had not been assigned to her. She began to attempt to defend herself, but Lady Matlock silenced her. "I have no need to hear any petty excuses about why you have been ignoring your assigned duties. I might have forgiven this lapse had you not revealed yourself to be completely lacking in moral rectitude."

"But I -"

"I have no wish to hear more! I shall send Jenny to fetch a footman to escort you from the premises immediately. You are not to speak to anyone or touch anything on your way out."

As Elizabeth silently waited for the arrival of the aforementioned servant, she happened to notice that Lady Matlock's dressing gown was trimmed with lace identical to that which Elizabeth had accidentally sold to Miss Davis. Spying that lace not only increased Elizabeth's vexation, it also reminded her of Mr. Clipper's cruel actions and words on her last day in Derby. If she had not noticed that lace, Elizabeth would almost certainly have attempted flee to Derby and thrown herself upon Mr. Clipper's mercy. However, she did not feel she could survive being again rejected by those she had viewed as family.

Thus, Elizabeth needed to form a different plan. Several ideas flitted through her mind; nevertheless, most of these were readily dismissed. However, Elizabeth finally settled upon walking to the village and asking the dressmaker to hire her, at least temporarily.

The footman who escorted Elizabeth insisted on accompanying her to her destination. Therefore, he overheard the lady telling Eliza that she might stay for the night, but that she would have to leave in the morning. The dressmaker sympathized with the girl's plight but did not wish to risk alienating Lady Matlock, who was her best customer. After overhearing, the footman returned to Matlock, but before returning to his post, he spoke to Parker, whom he knew took an interest in Eliza's concerns. Then he sought Mrs. Pringle to give her notice of his intention to seek employment elsewhere.

The following morning found Mr. Parker knocking on the dressmaker's door before daybreak.

"I am looking for Eliza Bennet. Is she here?" He inquired of the girl who answered the door." Moments later Elizabeth appeared at the door wearing an ill-fitting, muslin work dress.

"Have you come to say good-bye, sir? I will be departing in a few minutes. They have even packed some bread and cheese to bring with me as I travel. Well, truly you may say we made a trade, for I traded the rose-silk for this muslin frock and food for my journey. I do not think it was a fair deal, but I was in no position to bargain."

"And where will you go, Eliza?"

"The only thing I can think to do is travel to Derby. I can only hope that even if my former guardian has no wish to see me, someone among my former friends might be willing to offer me a position."

"I am traveling to visit cousins who live only a few miles from Derby," replied Parker who had only formed this plan after hearing Elizabeth's intentions. "Would you allow me to escort you at least as far as their home. I am certain Mrs. Brooks would be happy to keep you for a few days. The Brooks rent a small farm. They do not have much space, but I assure they can be relied upon for generous hospitality."

"Why had you not mentioned your plans to travel?"

"I did not have any until last night when I learned how you had been abused. After I heard of your ill-treatment, I could no longer abide remaining in the viscount's employ. I offered him a month's notice to allow him time to select a replacement. However, he informed me, in the harshest of terms, that my services were no longer required and that I might leave as soon as my bags were packed. This last week or so his behavior has been so erratic that I cannot help feeling Lord James is not the man I always thought him to be."

"So this Mr. and Mrs. Brooks do not expect you?"

"Not precisely, but they have told me that I am always welcome to visit at any time."

"Will I be welcome?" Elizabeth asked doubtfully.

"Yes, as long as you are willing to help with the work."

"Of course I am."

"I knew you would be," Parker replied with a smile. "I will need to give them some information about why you needed to flee Matlock. Will it trouble you if I inform them that the viscount imposed upon you?"

"Will they not think less of me for it?"

"I do not believe they will blame you. If they are unkind, we will leave, and I will deliver you to your friends in Derby."

"Very well."

"Then let us find what transportation we can."

It took longer than Parker expected, but within half an hour, Elizabeth and Parker were traveling toward their destination in a rickety, old wagon. The farmer driving it had just unloaded a large amount of goods and he was pleased to earn a penny by offering the two a ride. Parker apologized for not providing a more dignified mode of travel. Conversely, to Elizabeth the journey seemed a much greater adventure than it would have in a finer equipage. Her spirits quickly revived as she boarded the wagon and seated herself upon a pile of straw. Her cheerful demeanor astounded Parker, who could not rally himself to half the good spirits Eliza displayed. By midday, Elizabeth's good cheer began to grate on Parker's nerves.

"How can you be so happy?" The young man demanded.

"I have no reason not to be, do I?"

"No reason? Good God, woman, are you out of your wits?"

"I will miss Betsy's company, I suppose."

"Is that all you will miss from your time at Matlock?" Elizabeth remained silent for a moment as she considered Parker's words.

"There is probably more that I will miss, but without knowing the future, I cannot predict what it will bring. I do know that the two months I spent at Matlock were the most difficult months of my life."

"The most difficult?" Parker scoffed, "Surely you exaggerate?"

"I do not believe so. I do not mean to imply that working for Lady Matlock for two months has been catastrophic, but none of the calamities of my previous life can compare to the drudgery of working as a scullery maid. When I had the measles, for instance, I writhed in misery; nevertheless, nothing was required of me except to lie abed and rest."

"So you did not mean to imply they were the worst months of your life?"

"No, those were undoubtedly my first months as an orphan, though discovering that Mr. Clipper's regard for me was not as deep as I had believed felt like being orphaned once again."

"It is indeed painful to learn that you are not valued as much as you had supposed." Elizabeth correctly conjectured that Parker was thinking of his own interactions with Lord James Fitzwilliam. Her heart wrenched as she imagined his suffering was indeed akin to what she had suffered. Thus, she did not regain her earlier merriment.

Though Parker had been irked by Elizabeth's good humor, he was even more saddened by her bleakness. Furthermore, he blamed himself as the author of her melancholy.

The remainder of the journey passed in somber silence. However, within moments of arriving at the Brooks farm, every hint of downtrodden spirits quickly evaporated.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX

Each morning as soon as the cock began to crow, Elizabeth quickly rolled off the cot which served as her bed. Then she hastily donned her gown so that she would not be caught in a state of half-dress. Because they did not have an extra bedroom to offer Elizabeth, she slept each night in the Brooks' sitting room.

Mr. and Mrs. Brooks had warmly welcomed Elizabeth into their home just as Parker had promised they would. Mrs. Brooks had born 12 children, but except for her hair, which was almost completely white, she appeared far too young to have done so. Mr. Brooks did not wear his age so well as his wife; in truth, Elizabeth had difficulty believing he had ever been handsome. Nevertheless, he treated her with such kindness, that Elizabeth felt guilty for such uncharitable thoughts.

Of the Brooks twelve children, only eight still resided at home. Their three eldest, all daughters, had married and one of their sons had taken an apprenticeship with a blacksmith in the village. This left a young man of eighteen, who was his father's right-hand-man, and seven younger boys who were an inquisitive, adventurous lot.

By the time she had resided at Brooks farm for a full day, Elizabeth had been welcomed completely into the family. Elizabeth won the favor of Mr. Brooks during her first meal with the family when she complimented his wife's cooking with enthusiasm and sincerity, for in his eyes, anyone who admired Mrs. Brooks must have good sense. His wife became endeared to the young girl after that meal when Elizabeth wordlessly began assisting with the dishes. The younger sons' hearts were won that evening when she spun a yarn for them at bedtime which included both pirates and dragons. Conversely, those of the brothers who were not quite swayed by Elizabeth's adventuresome story, began to appreciate Elizabeth when she began to assist with the chores the following morning, meaning a little less work for each of them.

While Elizabeth won the hearts of his cousins, Parker struggled to find equal favor. Despite having spoken warmly about his cousins before arriving , Parker's manner upon greeting them seemed full of disdain. He clearly viewed himself above the Brooks, and though he did not verbally object to sharing a room with two of his younger cousins , he abhorrence of the notion was not concealed. Moreover, though he completed every task Mr. Brooks requested of him, Parker did not do so cheerfully, and he certainly never offered to assist when not asked.

"I again must wonder at your ability to be cheerful," intoned Parker to Elizabeth as she scoured the cooking pans one morning.

"And I cannot helping wondering the reason for your dour countenance."

"I am not at all suited to this life!" he exclaimed as though such an answer should be patently obvious.

"I did not know you were above getting a little dirt under your fingernails!" Elizabeth harshly retorted.

"Surely you know that is not my objection."

"How am I supposed to know that when you act as though the Brooks are unworthy of brushing your boots."

"I do no such thing!"

"No?"

"Of course not. I think my cousins are wonderful people. Only I feel so inadequate alongside of them. I have no idea how to muck a stall, or milk a a cow, or hoe a row. All I know how to do is select which waistcoat is best for a night at the the opera."

"You can read and do figures, and I happen to know you can sing and act splendidly. Your sewing skills are certainly proficient."

"I still cannot imagine myself in any profession other than gentleman's valet or perhaps secretary. Yet I do not know how to obtain such a position when Lord James will not grant me a letter of reference."

"I see. And if you find your situation intolerable, how to you plan to improve it."

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Since you have no plan to set out on a different course," huffed Elizabeth, "at least you can try to sail this one smoothly." Years later Elizabeth would realize how unfair her lack of sympathy had been. After all, Parker's life had been clearly mapped out for him from a very young age; it was natural that he would need to mourn his change in destiny for a time before being ready to clearly look toward the future.

Nevertheless, though Elizabeth's pushiness annoyed Parker, his fondness for her did not diminish. His feelings toward Elizabeth surprised Parker, and he found them incomprehensible. In actuality, his feelings at that moment were very much akin to what every young man who has ever been nagged by his sister feels.

Despite his annoyance with Elizabeth, Parker began to willingly offer more assistance to his cousins. He even managed to laugh at himself a little when he made honest mistakes, like looking for eggs under the rooster.

Parker's young cousins were so amused by his "hunt for rooster eggs" that they recounted the story to their parents that evening at dinner.

"Well at least he did not try to milk the bull," Mr. Brooks stated wryly.

"That," Parker dryly responded, "as I am sure you know, is only because you have no bull." Mr. Brooks laughed heartily.

"Why is Cousin Parker such a fool?" one of the younger boys piped. His father responded by immediately calling the child away from the table to be disciplined.

No one spoke again until the pair returned. The boy who had obviously been crying, meekly offered an apology.

"Your apology is accepted," was all Parker managed to say, and Elizabeth perceived that his little cousin's words still stung.

"Papa says that a fool is a man who is unwilling to learn. He says you aren't a fool, Cousin. He says I should admire you for trying. Also, he says that you know all sorts of things he knows nothing about."

"Your Papa is a wise man."

After that conversation, Parker was finally welcomed as fully into his cousins' family as Elizabeth had been. Days with the Brooks were characterized by hard work, but also camaraderie. Then, in the evenings the family gathered together to share lively conversation, story-telling and singing until nightfall, when they all climbed into their beds and slept soundly.

Although each day had its own work, the only day that deviated significantly from the routine was Sunday. On Sunday mornings, the whole family dressed in their nicest clothing and walked to church in the nearby village of Lambton. When the service ended, the Brooks would visit with friends for a short time before making the return journey. Once home, they would dine on bread and cheese, so that there would be little mess. Then each individual was free to spend the remainder of the day as he chose. For the Brooks boys, this generally meant fishing. For Mr. and Mrs. Brooks it meant taking a long nap. This left only Elizabeth and Parker, who often walked out along country lanes.

To say the pair walked together might be stretching the truth slightly , for Elizabeth would continually rush off to examine some sight or other, while Parker strolled along behind her at a leisurely pace. When there were flowers to be got, Elizabeth generally returned bedecked in them. Parker would laugh at the sight; nevertheless, he never once considered rejecting the flowers she placed in his buttonhole.

On one of their Sunday afternoon rambles Elizabeth and Parker were sighted by the master of a nearby estate. He watched the pair in amusement before approaching.

"Good day , Parker!" George Darcy called out to the young man. Elizabeth lowered her eyes in embarrassment, hoping the gentleman would not recall her. Parker, on the other hand, was surprised to be remembered.

"Good day, sir," replied Parker respectfully. "How are all your family?"

"We are all well. At least I believe we are. I have not received a letter from my son in many weeks."

"He is probably busy with his studies, sir." In his experience, young men at university were rarely distracted by studying, but this still seemed the polite thing to say.

"I hope you are correct, young man. Since he first left for school many years ago, he has never gone more than a fortnight without writing home. I probably worry, unnecessarily."

"Undoubtedly."

"Brooks mentioned that you were looking for a new position."

"That is correct, sir."

"I wish you the best of luck; however, if you still have not found a permanent position by Christmas time, I would be happy to have you at Pemberley for a month or so. I may have a position for your young friend as well, if she is looking."

"What say you, Eliza?" Elizabeth blushed to have the gentleman's attention drawn to her, but she managed to draw her eyes up.

"I had not thought at all of taking a position. However, I suppose I should not expect to live on the Brooks' charity forever. As happy as I am now, I would be pleased to be in service again." Furthermore, Elizabeth felt relief in the idea that she might be able to pay back Lady Matlock for the debts she had accrued while under that lady's employ.

"Very well, I shall send word as soon as the positions need filled. In the meantime, please feel free to walk in Pemberley's gardens as often as you like." Elizabeth smiled as she replied with sincere gratitude for his offer. Impressed by the young girl's enthusiasm, Mr. Darcy added, "Indeed, you may pluck any of the flowers which are past their prime."

"Oh thank you," breathed Elizabeth. It amused Mr. Darcy that this poor girl showed more enthusiasm over a few flowers than his daughter had when she received her first pony.

"Do you think Mr. Darcy was in earnest?" Elizabeth asked Mr. Brooks later that evening after Parker had related their entire encounter to his cousins.

"I'm certain. The Darcys go about things a bit oddly. They keep the barest staff they can most of the time. And they like to hire locals. They never host parties in the summer, or any times when there's lots to be done on the farms. But a couple of times a winter they have big house parties, and when they do, they hire half the county it seems. So yes, if Mr. Darcy offered you a job, you can be sure he meant it."

"Oh. I was asking about the flowers."

"I am sure he meant that, too. As long as you do as he said and take only the older blooms, you'll actually be helping the gardener I would think. There won't be many flowers for much longer though. The weather's turning."

"Yes, I did notice that."

"By the by, Eliza," Mrs. Brooks added, "I do hope you'll come back to us when your time at Pemberley is over. I expect to need some extra help this winter."

"If you wish me here there's nowhere I'd rather be. But why will you be needing help?"

"Mama thinks the stork will be bringing a new baby," piped in one of the young boys. Mr. Brooks beamed adoringly at his wife. Elizabeth sighed and hoped one day she would marry a man who would love her so much.

 **Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I hope your impatience will be assuaged with the knowledge that there will be a lot more Fitzwilliam Darcy starting in the next chapter.**

 **And in case any one wondered why I haven't posted for so long, here is a long rambling story. Several weeks ago my laptop developed a new feature in which the image on the screen could only be viewed when the computer was held in a particular manner. I muddled through for a little while, even though I couldn't actually see what I was typing (this chapter was written during that time, so if there are extra typos that is why). Eventually my husband (who is totally amazing and usually able to fix absolutely everything) had the time to fix it, unfortunately his efforts broke the computer further, causing the computer to become completely useless (except as an extra battery for my cell phone). So my husband immediately went to amazon and ordered me a new computer. Several days later a laptop arrived but it was not the one he had ordered, and its specs were significantly inferior. When he contacted the company, they said they could not do a simple exchange; we would need to return the computer and then reorder. It took a couple more days for amazon to provide us with shipping label to return the incorrect computer (they eventually did, and we received a complete refund). In the meantime, the price of the laptop my husband had ordered for me had increased significantly. My husband then was unsure what the best option would be. However, I was tired of going without a computer so I drove to a pawn shop to see if they had any in stock. While I was there, a guy showed up wanting to sell his laptop to the pawn shop. I ended up buying the computer from him on the spot. When I brought it home, my husband was concerned that the laptop may have been stolen, so he had to investigate the matter. It took another day for him to feel confident that I had not inadvertently taken part in a shady deal, and then another day beyond that to get the computer set up for me. But now I have a computer, which seems to work just fine, so I should be able to resume a more frequent posting schedule.**


	10. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Last night I posted chapter 11, in which Fitzwilliam Darcy was brutally attacked. A good many reviewers mentioned being distressed by what I had written. Some felt betrayed by the change in the story line, feeling that it was abrupt, and that the violence was unexpected. After considering the manner I decided to alter the way the story is written. I have removed not only the offending chapter, but the previous one which was written primarily from Darcy's perspective. It is now my intention to tell the story solely from Elizabeth's perspective. I am not changing the plot of the story, merely the manner in which it is told. We will now only learn as much about Darcy's experience as Elizabeth does, and at the same time she does. I hope this will be less distressing to my readers. I do greatly appreciate all of the feedback, and I would like to know how you all feel about it.**

Chapter XII

Elizabeth was sitting by the fire in the Brooks' kitchen one chilly afternoon, keeping an eye on dinner while she mended one of the boy's shirts. Unusually enough, she was all alone, for the family were all away from home completing various chores and errands. While Elizabeth enjoyed family life with the Brooks, she also appreciated the rare opportunity to have a few moments alone.

Since her duties did not require much thought, she began to daydream as she stitched. Her reverie was suddenly interrupted by loud pounding on the front door. Expecting one of the neighbors who had borrowed a pair of kitchen shears that morning, Elizabeth simply hollered for the person to enter rather than properly answering the door. Thus was she thoroughly surprised to hear a man's heavy footfalls entering the kitchen.

Elizabeth turned quickly, and seeing Mr. Darcy, she cast aside her mending and offered a proper curtsy. Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment as she stammered her apology, "I beg your pardon, sir. I apologize heartily for not receiving you properly. May I offer you a cup of tea?"

"No thank you," Mr. Darcy answered curtly. Elizabeth sighed slightly, thankful she would not have to serve the gentleman tea. "Is Mr. Parker at hand?"

"I am sorry, sir. I believe he is in the back fields with Mr. Brooks. Would you wish me fetch him?"

"Would you instead deliver a message for him?"

"I certainly would not mind, sir. Have you written one already?"

"I have not -"

"Well, sir, as Mr. and Mrs. Brooks do not read. I do not believe they have any paper and pen at hand. Mr. Parker may have some amongst his personal items; however, I would not feel comfortable borrowing them without permission." Mr. Darcy smiled at the girl's rambling response.

"I did not mean to write a letter. I thought for you to deliver the message by mouth."

"Oh! Certainly I can speak to Parker for you."

"My son, Fitzwilliam, returned from Cambridge last night in a very poor condition. I am looking to hire a man to tend him and oversee his recovery. I know that Parker was my nephew's valet for many years, and so I thought to offer him the position if he wishes it. If he wishes to take the job, he must arrive tonight; Fitzwilliam must be tended immediately." Elizabeth's mind was full of questions, but she knew better than to ask them.

"I will speak to Parker as soon as he returns." Mr. Darcy looked thoughtfully at the young girl for a moment.

"With my son's unexpected return, there will be more work for all of the staff. I believe we would benefit from hiring another maid."

"That is a logical conclusion, sir," replied Elizabeth not understanding the purpose of the statement.

"Would you also like to come to Pemberley to work sooner than planned?" Elizabeth did not truly wish to leave the Brooks farm. Nevertheless, she remembered the debt she owed Lady Matlock and readily agreed.

When Parker returned to the house, Elizabeth practically assaulted him with the news, "Parker! You will never guess what has happened today! Mr. Darcy has been here to offer you a position!" Elizabeth continued to relay the message, barely pausing to breathe.

"Calm down!" Parker exclaimed when Elizabeth had fully informed him of the matter. "Did he say how long he expected the position to last? Or how much it would pay? Did he mention the nature of his son's illness? Would I be exposing myself to contagions? Would I be expected to return to Cambridge with the younger Darcy?"

"I know not. I just assumed that you would wish to take the position regardless of the particulars. After all, if you serve well, Mr. Darcy would surely offer you a letter of reference, and then you might be able to find another position if you do not like this one."

"What wisdom you display, Eliza! Let us pack our things and be on our way." Elizabeth giggled at Parker's enthusiasm.

"Maybe we could eat dinner first?"

Because of Elizabeth's inattentiveness, the dinner had been slightly burned, but none of the Brooks family complained. However, several of the children did issue plaintive laments when they learned of Elizabeth's planned departure. They were only slightly mollified by her promise to see them again as soon as she could.

When the meal was complete, Elizabeth tied her few possessions into a bundle, which Parker placed in his valise. Then the pair began the long walk to Pemberley manor. Both of them felt as though they were embarking upon a grand adventure, and they arrived at the manor in high spirits. As soon as they entered, Elizabeth was sent to the housekeeper, while Parker was whisked away to attend his new master.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Bristlethwaite eyed Elizabeth carefully. The woman's scrutiny unnerved her slightly, but she tried to hide her anxiety. Elizabeth briefly wondered whether livestock felt the same when they stood on the auction block.

"I understand you are called Eliza." Elizabeth nodded. "What is your full name?" Mrs. Bristlethwaite sternly demanded.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"And who are your people?"

"My father was Thomas Bennet of Longbourn."

"What was his position?" asked the housekeeper, feeling irked by the airs this new maid had assumed.

"He was the heir of the estate, ma'am. My grandfather mostly left him to manage it."

"You are a gentleman's daughter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Illegitimate I assume."

"Certainly not!" barked Elizabeth angrily. "My father was respectfully wed to my mother."

"And who is your mother." Elizabeth had to pause for a moment to recall her mother's given name.

"My mother was Fanny Bennet. Her father is an attorney." The housekeeper raised her brows

"Have you any aunts and uncles?"

"My mother's brother, Mr. Gardiner, was in trade in London last I knew. Mama also had a sister, Miss Gardiner, who lives with my grandparents. Or at least she did. She may have married. My father had two sisters. One of them married a captain."

"In the army?"

"The navy I believe."

"And the other?"

"I do not remember. I assume she was married, because she did not live with us at Longbourn, but I cannot remember her at all."

"And have you siblings?"

"Four sisters."

"And where are they?"

"I have no idea. The last I knew they were being sent to an orphanage in London." This statement increased the housekeeper's confusion greatly, and caused her to ask far more questions than she normally would have done. Elizabeth answered the questions to the best of her ability, but as she answered her confusion increased. Elizabeth had never realized how many holes there were in her own story. How had her father died? Why had she and her sisters not been sent to other relatives? What had happened to the dowry her mother surely must have had?

Though she did not say as much, the housekeeper privately vowed to investigate the matter of Elizabeth's circumstances. Aloud, Mrs. Bristlethwaite merely continued to interrogate her new maid about her work experience.

Having lost a good deal of vanity and pride during her months at Matlock, Elizabeth was much wiser and more sincere in her answers than she had been when Mrs. Pringle interviewed her. She did not exaggerate her talents or her experience; however, she did place greater emphasis on the skills which she most enjoyed exercising.

When this interrogation was complete, Mrs. Bristlethwaite again examined Elizabeth's person.

"How old are you Eliza?"

"Thirteen, ma'am."

"We must see that you have some more appropriate attire. And your hair ought to be worn in braids. Your manner of dress suggests you are more mature than thirteen."

"As you wish. I cannot buy any new dresses, though. I have not the money."

"Oh, all of the workers at Pemberley are provided with suitable clothing. The wages here are lower than many other manors, but no one is left without proper attire. Those who are employed temporarily are generally expected to leave their clothing behind when they leave, although I am certain Lady Anne would never send anyone away with nothing to wear."

"Oh." Elizabeth mumbled, not knowing what to think.

"Now, are you familiar with the expectations the Darcys have of their staff?"

"No, ma'am. I did not ask Mr. Darcy many questions."

"Firstly, you will attend morning prayers every morning while you are here, unless you are gravely ill. The only exception is that you do not need to attend prayers in the Pemberley chapel on Sunday morning; you are expected to attend services at either Lambton or Kympton parish. One Sunday a month you will have to miss Sunday services, though." Elizabeth smiled and nodded, pleased she would be attending church.

"Secondly, you must bathe every Saturday evening. On other days you are expected to wash your hands and face and to clean behind your ears. Mrs. Reynolds may inspect you, if she suspects you are not complying. If you wish to bathe more often, you may, but you will be expected to pump water for yourself if you do." Elizabeth grinned as realized this meant that she would not be expected to fetch her own bath water on Saturday nights.

"You will be expected to be in bed every night by ten o'clock unless Mrs. Reynolds or I tell you otherwise."

"What if my assigned duties are not done by then?"

"If that is an issue, please come and tell me, or Mrs. Reynolds. If your duties do cause you to work past ten o'clock, and we feel that you have been truly attempting to complete them, you will be given an extra hour of time off on your half day."

"Will my half day be on Sunday?"

"You will have the entire day off most Sundays, and a half day on the one Sunday a month you must work. In addition to that you will have one half day off each week."

"What will my position be?"

"You will be a chambermaid. We probably need another scullery maid more than we need a chambermaid, but I cannot, in good conscience, allow a gentleman's daughter to work in the scullery."

"I worked in the scullery at Matlock."

"I ought not to disrespect my betters, but Lady Matlock does not know what she is about. As soon as we write a contract for you, I will take you to Mrs. Reynolds who is in charge of the upstairs maids. She will explain your duties to you, show you your living quarters, and help you find all of the supplies you need."

"Thank you."

"Did you have any other questions?"

"Am I allowed to sing while I work?" Eliza's question surprised Mrs. Bristlethwaite, who expect a query about wages.

"As long as you are not disturbing the Darcys."

When the contract was presented to Elizabeth, she read every word of it. She was not surprised that the wages were low, since Mrs. Bristlethwaite had given her some warning. Nonetheless, Elizabeth was dismayed by the realization that three months working at Pemberley would not bring her enough money to fully repay Lady Matlock. Still, she readily signed the contract and did not attempt to negotiate a higher wage.

When Elizabeth first met Mrs. Reynolds, she did not expect to like the woman very well, for Mrs. Reynolds did not seem at all interested in meeting the new maid. She could not know that the older woman was preoccupied by her worries for "Master Fitzwilliam" whom she had known since he was four. However, despite her distraction, Mrs. Reynolds still provided Elizabeth with far more information than she had received at the beginning of her time at Matlock. Thus, Elizabeth thanked Mrs. Reynolds kindly, and then began to retreat to the room she had been told would be hers. Upon arriving in the room, she immediately turned around to seek Mrs. Reynolds again.

When Elizabeth could not find Mrs. Reynolds, she looked for Mrs. Bristlethwaite, but was informed that the housekeeper had retired. Unable to find either of those ladies, she began seeking Parker, who was the person she actually needed to find. She spoke with several other servants before being given direction to Fitzwilliam Darcy's chambers.

Elizabeth stood in the servant's quarters and knocked on the door. To her surprise, she was quickly bid to enter. When she stepped inside, Mr. Darcy frowned dramatically.

"You are not Mrs. Reynolds!"

Elizabeth replied with impertinence, "No more than you were Mrs. Thumbkin this morning." Mr. Darcy raised his lips so that he almost smiled.

"Indeed. Now what brings you here, child."

"I was looking for Parker," Mr. Darcy's eyes narrowed at the girl.

"I cannot condone illicit meetings between menservants and maidservants. I will have to send you back to the Brooks."

"Sir!" snapped Elizabeth, with far more feeling than politeness, "I am merely trying to retrieve my things. Mr. Parker kindly carried them for me in his valise." Mr. Darcy nodded but did not apologize.

"Very well. Get her things, Parker." Mr Darcy paused for a moment, then continued, "Since you have seen my son's state, I will have you assigned to attending his chambers. You will need to come in at least twice through the night to tend the fires, the doctor says he must be kept warm." Elizabeth nodded. She had not previously noticed Fitzwilliam Darcy, but now she turned to the bed where he lay. He barely seemed to be the same young man she had met at Matlock. "You will also bring Fitzwilliam his meals, and you will do any other duties a chambermaid must. The fewer people who see Fitzwilliam this way the better."

Elizabeth again examined Fitzwilliam, who lay curled in a ball upon his bed. Though his pale skin and gaunt face distressed Elizabeth, she was far more disturbed by the haunted look in his eyes. His illness had obviously wreaked great havoc upon him.

In the wee hours of the night, Elizabeth arose and went to Fitzwilliam's bedchamber to tend the fire. Even before reaching the room, she could hear terrified screams. She entered the room and looked immediately to the bed where Fitzwilliam lay writhing and screaming. Parker stood several feet away watching Fitzwilliam but doing nothing.

"Why are you not helping him, Parker?" Elizabeth demanded.

"It is not so simple."

"Whatever can you mean? The poor man needs comfort."

"Watch," hissed Parker. Elizabeth watched as Parker approached Fitzwilliam. When he spoke, Fitzwilliam screamed more loudly. When Parker placed a gentle hand upon Fitzwilliam's shoulder, Fitzwilliam reacted violently.

"I see," Elizabeth responded apologetically.

"He will not be calmed."

"Have you tried singing?" asked Elizabeth, for a brief moment remembering a strange man singing to comfort her littlest sisters.

"I have not." Rather than urge Parker further to start singing, Elizabeth began singing softly. Almost immediately Fitzwilliam's screams decreased in intensity. By the time she had completed a full verse of the song, he had stopped screaming entirely. When Elizabeth paused, Fitzwilliam croaked out, "Mother?" Not knowing that these were the first syllables the gentleman had uttered in many weeks, Elizabeth was not as impacted by his speaking as she might have been. Nevertheless, she knew he was in a desperate position and longed to be of service.

"Parker, please summon Lady Anne. Her son needs her." Elizabeth then continued to sing. Parker quickly rushed off to summon the mistress. Several minutes later he returned alone.

"Where is Lady Anne?"

"I spoke with her maid, who says the mistress will not attend her son because it is not proper for a lady to enter a gentleman's private chambers."

"But the gentleman is her son, and he needs her."

"The rules for the higher levels of society are different."

"What is the point of having a houseful of riches and splendid gardens if a mother cannot tend her son in his hour of need? I cannot believe my mama could ever have been so cold-hearted even if she was a great lady. I do not know what this gentleman's illness is, but I can see that he suffers!"

Elizabeth settled herself on the bed beside the gentleman and spoke soothingly, "I will bring your mother to you or perish in the attempt, sir." Parker might have laughed at her hyperbole had the situation not been so dire. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling some amusement as he watched her raise herself to her full height and storm out of the room.

Since no one was visible in the hallway, and Elizabeth did not know where to find Lady Anne, she rushed into the servants' quarters and located Mrs. Reynolds.

"Where are the mistress's chamber?" Elizabeth sharply inquired.

"That is a question to answer in the morning, child! Why should you wake me with such a trivial concern. You only need to tend Master Fitzwilliam's fire through the night. The master and mistress prefer not to be disturbed.

"The young master is asking for his mother, ma'am."

"He has spoken?"

"He has."

"Praise God!" replied the older maid, with tears in her eyes. Seeing Elizabeth's confusion, she continued, "According to Master Wickham, Master Fitzwilliam has not spoken since he was attacked weeks ago!" Mrs. Reynolds information created more questions in Elizabeth's mind.

"He was attacked? I thought he was simply ill with some dreadful disease."

"Since you are the one who will tending his rooms, I thought you already knew. Master Fitzwilliam was set upon by thugs who robbed him and beat him senseless." Compassion surged in Elizabeth's young heart.

"How could anyone do that?"

"And to such a good man," Mrs. Reynolds replied, unable to attempt an explanation. "Let me fetch the mistress."

"I must come with you, in case she does not immediately agree to see her son." Mrs. Reynolds saw no harm in allowing the young maid to follow her; if she had anticipated that young maids behavior, however, she might have forbade it.

Upon arriving at the mistress chambers, Elizabeth pushed past Mrs. Reynolds and did not bother knocking.

"Lady Anne, you must come at once. The young master needs you!" Mr. Darcy, who was sleeping beside his wife, glared angrily at Elizabeth.

"You again! Get out!"

"I shall not get out until Lady Anne agrees to attend Master Fitzwilliam." The master issued a low growl.

"Is he recovering then? Has he left his bedchamber? Tell me where to find him, and I shall go to him at once," Lady Anne eagerly inquired.

"He has not left his bed, my lady. He asked for his mother, and I promised I would fetch you."

"Why were you in my son's bedchamber, young miss!" shouted Mr. Darcy, unkindly.

"I was tending the fire, Sir, just as you said I must."

"Ah." Mr. Darcy mumbled, "Still, there is no cause for my wife to violate propriety by entering a place where no true lady would venture."

"George," Lady Anne softly intoned, "I will go to my son. If Fitzwilliam needs me, then propriety be hanged." George Darcy clearly did not approve of his wife's choice, but he did not argue further.

After throwing on a dressing gown and slippers, Lady Anne rushed to her son's room. All of the grace and elegance for which she was known had been discarded as her son's welfare mattered more to the lady than any other concern.

Before arriving in Fitzwilliam's chambers, Elizabeth could hear that the gentleman had resumed his nightmares.

"Oh my son!" gasped the great lady, moving more quickly than she had since her girlhood.

Even by the dim light of the fire, Lady Anne discerned that her son was in a sorry state indeed. She rushed to embrace him.

"Oh my child! My darling boy! If I had known you were so poorly, the fire of hell would not have kept me away." Saying this, she took his hands into her own and pressed them to her cheeks.

Before long, Fitzwilliam settled into a restful sleep. Observing this, Elizabeth returned to her own room to rest.


	11. Chapter 13

On her first morning at Pemberley, Elizabeth woke with a start. She had fallen so soundly asleep that she had failed to wake and tend the young master's fire a second time. Though dawn was still almost an hour away, she hurriedly washed her face, braided her hair, and threw on her favorite gown. She knew the housekeeper would not approve of the gown, but since no new garments had yet been provided, Elizabeth decided to wear it.

Once she had completed this rushed toilet, Elizabeth scampered through the servants passages to Fitzwilliam Darcy's bedchamber. She did not knock, for fear of waking the inhabitants, but she did carefully examine the room before entering fully.

Lady Anne remained perched where she had settled the previous night, still holding her son's hands. She did not rise when she saw Elizabeth, but she did nod her head to the maid.

"I am sorry for neglecting the fire, my lady."

"Never mind that, dear. When the flames began to die, Parker added another log."

"Again, I am sorry. Parker should not have to tend my duties. He surely has enough of his own."

"Thank you for coming to find me last night, Eliza."

"I know my behavior was impertinent."

"Perhaps it was, but I believe it was for the best. As it is almost morning, I believe I will return to my room." Lady Anne lifted herself from her son's bed, but was overcome with sudden nausea. Comprehending the situation, Elizabeth grabbed Fitzwilliam's wash basin and rushed to the lady's side. She barely reached Lady Anne, before the lady cast up her accounts.

Once she was fairly certain Lady Anne had finished, Elizabeth set the basin down and returned with a glass of water. Though the water was warm, Lady Anne received it graciously. Then Elizabeth took up the basin.

"If you will retire to your chambers, ma'am. I will see that this basin is cleaned, and then I will bring you some ginger tea and toast." Lady Anne did not have any desire to eat or drink anything, but she was grateful to the young maid, and so agreed to Elizabeth's plan.

"Thank you, Eliza."

Eliza cheerfully grinned as she carried the vomit filled basin down the stairs, for she had reached an understandable conclusion regarding Lady Anne's illness. Having spent time with both Mrs. Clipper and Mrs. Brooks while they were with child, she knew that morning illness was a common symptom of women who were increasing. Moreover, there had seemed to her something in Lady Anne's countenance which she had seen in both Mrs. Clipper and Mrs. Brooks. She would not speak of her assumptions, but she would brew the special tea which Mrs. Brooks claimed eased her stomach upset.

When she entered the kitchen, a girl of about Elizabeth's age was just starting the kitchen fires.

"You must be the new girl," this scullery maid stated, "I am called Jo. That is short for Josephine, but no one calls me Josephine except my mum when I'm naughty. I hear you're called Eliza. Is that short for Elizabeth?" at Elizabeth's nod, she continued, "Of course it is. What else would it be short for? Well I suppose your folks could've just called you Eliza. I knew a girl once whose name was Marge. It weren't short for Margaret nor Margerie or anything else. By the way, I've always wanted to know why sometimes people named Margaret are called Peggy."

"Probably the same reason people named Mary are sometimes called Polly," answered a laughing Elizabeth.

"Yes. You must be right, of course. There was once a family that lived down by the old bridge what had three girls named Mary. They was called Mary Sue, Mary Lou, and Mary Ann. I suppose their mum could've called them Mary, Molly, and Polly, or some such. I thought it rather odd that they gave all the girls the same name. I asked Mum why. She thought they must be secretly Catholics. I don't see why that would make them give the girls the same names. Course, I don't know any Catholics. Is that a normal thing do you think?"

"I do not think so."

"When they told me there'd be a new girl, I was right excited. Then Mrs. B told me you wouldn't be helping me down here. I wondered why, but now I know. You talk real nice, like the upstairs folk. But now you are in the kitchens, after all. Unless you are just looking for something to eat. Breakfast won't be ready for bit, yet, but there's some leftover stew from last night's dinner, if you're real hungry. There's leftover plum pudding, too. Mrs. Reynolds made it when she heard that Master Fitzwilliam was home. But I guess he's real sick and didn't eat much. And nobody else ate much either. Mrs. B said the kitchen staff could share this morning, but if you're real hungry, I'll share mine with you."

"Thank you. I cannot remember the last time I had plum pudding. However, Lady Anne has become ill this morning, and I need to bring her some tea and toast before I can have anything myself."

"Oh why did you not say so? Pardon me, I am probably rambling too much." Elizabeth giggled.

"Could you show me where the ginger root is stored? And where would I find old bread to make toast?" Jo complied readily, chattering the entire time.

As soon as the tea and toast were prepared, Elizabeth carefully carried them to the mistress's chambers. Lady Anne's maid admitted Elizabeth and took the tray she had been carrying. Lady Anne then beckoned the young maid to herself.

Elizabeth approached willingly, but when she was about two feet from the lady, she stopped suddenly.

Lady Anne looked at Elizabeth with great puzzlement, "Is aught the matter?"

"You smell exactly like my mama. She died when I was only six. Elizabeth paused. "And I had forgot that scent, but it is exactly like her.

"I highly doubt that," interjected the lady's maid, "The perfume I have just sprayed on Lady Anne is the creation of an exclusive London perfumist whose products can only be enjoyed by the very wealthy."

"I beg your pardon, ma'am," Elizabeth replied, hoping she had not offended her new mistress but no less certain of her rightness.

Further remembering herself, Elizabeth then inquired, "Do you wish for me to make up your bed? Or do you plan to return to it?"

"I will not be returning to bed. If you begin now, I believe you might finish making up the bed and dusting the room before it is time for morning prayers."

As Elizabeth tended her duties, the mistress and her maid began speaking openly. Elizabeth wondered if they had forgot her presence or if they did not care. She decided that she could not be faulted for eavesdropping if the pair were not attempting to hide their conversation.

"My lady, I begin to worry. This is the third morning this week that you have been ill. Something is not right."

"I am sure it is merely nerves caused over the worry I have had for Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth noticed the maid looking perplexed by the statement. "Although perhaps you are correct. I may have eaten something which disagrees with me. Would you send for the apothecary? Perhaps he could prescribe a purgative so that I might rid myself of whatever is making me so ill." This suggestion alarmed Elizabeth. Mrs. Brooks had recently told her a story about a young woman who had miscarried after taking a purgative. She wondered if she ought to voice her concerns, but tried to brush them aside. Lady Anne had already birthed two children, she would surely know if she was expecting again.

During morning prayers, Elizabeth tried to focus on the words spoken by the curate, but she could not stop thinking about Lady Anne's illness.

Afterward, Elizabeth spoke with Mrs. Reynolds, who noticed the new chambermaid's distracted manner.

"Are you well, Eliza? I hope that seeing Master Fitzwilliam was not too distressing for you." Elizabeth knew not what to say, for she had been distressed by the gentleman's condition, but she did not wish for a different maid to be assigned to his room.

"I am well."

"Please feel welcome to speak freely about your concerns."

"I think Lady Anne is with child." Mrs. Reynolds eyes widened. "She has been ill and she wants the apothecary to prescribe a purgative, but I am afraid that could harm the baby." Elizabeth's concern impressed Mrs. Reynolds. The young girl had not been in the Darcy's employ nearly long enough to form an attachment to the family; hence, her concern must derive from a generally compassionate nature. She had doubted Mr. Darcy's decision to have the new maid working in Master Fitzwilliam's room, which she knew was rooted entirely in a desire to staunch the spreading of rumors. However, she now thought that Eliza would be well suited to her position.

"Oh dear. I do not think it is likely that our mistress is increasing. However, it could not hurt to speak to the apothecary."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. I am sorry to be a nuisance."

"Please do not feel that way. I hope you will continue to feel free to voice any concerns you have."

After her conversation with Mrs. Reynolds, Elizabeth decided to return to Young Mr. Darcy's room before overseeing her other tasks. She knocked on the door, and was admitted by a weary-looking Parker.

"Eliza, I am beside myself. I think I must resign, for I am completely unable to fulfill my duties." Elizabeth closely examined Parker, who appeared to have aged five years since she had seen him the previous day, though she supposed the extra years might be partially washed away with a good night's sleep.

"But you have only just arrived."

"Mr. Darcy instructed me that his son must be washed, shaved and dressed. I can understand why; he has clearly not had a proper bath in weeks. However, whenever I approach the gentleman balks in fear. I know I could physically overpower the man in his weakened state, but it would not be right."

"He did not seem afraid of me last night."

"He did not, but you cannot act as his valet."

"Of course, not. But I may be able to calm him." Parker looked doubtful, but agreed to allow Elizabeth to approach the gentleman.

"Good morning, sir!" Elizabeth cheerfully called as she approached Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam did not react to her, but continued to eye Parker warily.

"I do not know if they told you, but I am Eliza the chambermaid. Should I call you Master Fitzwilliam or Mr. Darcy?" Fitzwilliam gave no response. "Do you know Mr. Parker? He is an experienced valet, and your father wants him to clean you up. Parker does not wish to hurt you. He only wants to do his job. Will you allow that?" Fitzwilliam shook his head. Elizabeth supposed that some response was better than none, even though it was negative.

"Very well. Then you shall have to continue looking like Robinson Crusoe. At least you look a great deal like I always imagined him. I have been wondering for years how that book ends." Fitzwilliam raised his hand and gestured lightly toward a large trunk which sat in the corner.

"Parker, I think Master Fitzwilliam wishes for something in his trunk."

"I suppose I should unpack it entirely. It was delivered this morning, and contains the young gentleman's effects. There were two trunks actually. I unpacked the other immediately, but Mr. Darcy stopped by the room this morning, and he told me not to open this one until I bathed and dressed the young master."

"Given the young master's desire for the trunk, I think you can disregard Mr. Darcy's instructions." Parker agreed, and he opened the trunk, wondering how he would know what Master Fitzwilliam desired. However, as soon as the trunk was fully open, he knew immediately, for in the netting of the trunk's lid sat a well-worn copy of _Robinson Crusoe_. Parker did not dare walk close enough to place the book in Fitzwilliam's hands, so he offered it to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth did not offer the book to Master Fitzwilliam, instead she opened it and began reading from the beginning. A sort of peace seemed to descend over the young man as she read, and so she read the entire first chapter. She could not have comprehended the relief provided to the young man's tormented mind as he heard the words of his favorite story.

When her reading ceased, Fitzwilliam turned to the girl and whispered, "Please do not stop." Although touched by his pleading tone, Elizabeth knew she must complete her other assigned chores or risk losing her new position.

"As much as I would wish to spend the day reading, I do have work I must complete. Perhaps I might read to you more later after you have attended your toilet and eaten a meal." Fitzwilliam looked at Parker in alarm.

"You do not need to fear Parker, sir. He truly means you no harm." Fitzwilliam's face revealed nothing.

"Are you able to make your own toilet?" Fitzwilliam raised one hand shakily, and Elizabeth knew he was too weak to bathe or dress himself. Moreover, if he attempted to shave, the result might be perilous. She wondered if the weakness was direct result of being beaten, or if it was the result of lack of food. Perhaps his stomach had been injured when he was attacked.

"Never mind, sir. You are not strong enough. I will not make my promise to read conditional upon your appearing presentable. Will you not, however, agree to take some sustenance? Thankfully, unlike poor Mr. Crusoe, you need not live on goat meat." For a moment Fitzwilliam's lips twitched, but it passed so quickly that Elizabeth wondered if she had imagined it.

Three hours later, Elizabeth joined the other servants in the kitchen for dinner. Most of them welcomed her heartily, and their offers of friendship seemed so genuine that Elizabeth could not mind their interrogations. Nevertheless, remembering that Jenny at Matlock had betrayed her, she could not easily trust her new friends.

The food, however, she could appreciate without hesitation. Though the servants' dinner was simple fare, it was far better than anything she had eaten at Matlock. When she mentioned this to the other servants, she was surprised by their reaction.

"The cook at Matlock was a thief and a villain. I am not surprised the food was no good!" one manservant stated.

"A thief?"

"Indeed, it is said that Captain Fitzwilliam learned that she was feeding inferior food to the staff and keeping the money she saved. She also stole the family's leftovers to feed to her own family."

"She what?"

"I heard," one of the maids added, "that she carted away half the kitchen supplies before she could be arrested. Since half the staff had left, there was no one to cook breakfast, so the captain had to do it himself."

"Not himself," interjected Jo, who had been far less talkative in the presence of so many other servants, "My cousin, who works for Lord Barkely, told me that she heard that Master Fitzwilliam helped. She says he baked the worst bread anyone had ever tasted."

"That cannot be true! The young master would never lower himself!"

"It is true! My cousin says he even wore an apron. And he answered the door for some tradesmen who came to call, and one of them even thought he was a scullion! Honest to goodness!" Elizabeth wondered if the young master really had assisted in the kitchen. It seemed unlikely for a man of his station to lower himself in such a way.

Since Elizabeth had worked at Matlock for two months, she was naturally curious about the gossip from that place. She wondered if Mrs. Cook had really been stealing, and she wondered why so many of the staff members had departed. Elizabeth could not help worrying about Betsy. If the servants' story was true, then she must have left Matlock. Had she chosen to depart? Or had Lady Matlock dismissed her?

As she was finishing her dinner, Elizabeth was told that the apothecary wished to speak with her. The man informed Elizabeth that Mrs. Reynolds had informed him of her concerns and then asked her several questions about her observations of Lady Anne.

After completing his interrogation, he thanked Elizabeth for her time. Then he told her, "I am in agreement with you that Lady Anne's symptoms point toward her being with child. If my observations align with yours, I will refuse to provide her with the medication she desires."

As soon as the apothecary left her, Elizabeth scurried up the stairs to Fitzwilliam's rooms, cheerfully singing as she went.

She nearly stumbled in fright when she saw a man crouching silently by the servants' entrance to the room.

"Shh!" the man whispered. "The doctor is examining Darcy, and I want to hear what he is saying." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at the man.

"If you were someone who had the right to know the results of the exam, I am sure someone would tell you. Since you are crouching here instead of entering the room and alerting its occupants to your presence, I can only assume your presence here is nefarious."

"I promise I mean no ill will toward Darcy! I only need to know how he is. I need to know that he will recover."

"He will recover," stated Elizabeth plainly. She had no evidence for her assertion, but she was nonetheless determined that it would be so.

"He is improving then?" The young man's voice was full of hope. "I so hoped he would. He was so wrecked when I found him, and I thought that he could recover better at Pemberley. It was utterly shocking to see Darcy in such a state."

"You must be Mr. Darcy's godson," Elizabeth said, remembering that Mr. Darcy had mentioned his godson bringing his son home. "Why then are you are crouching in the servants' corridor?"

"I have been banned from the manor. Mr. Darcy wishes, and rightly so, to never see or hear from me again. I am only fortunate he has not sacked my father."

"Are you trying to convince me to reveal your presence? Why is Mr. Darcy so angry?"

"He is more than angry. He despises the sight of me because it is my fault his son is in this condition." Elizabeth's wrath surged as she thought of the strong, handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy brought so near to destruction. Without considering the repercussions of her actions, she balled her fist and sent it sailing directly into the young man's nose. Thirteen-year-old Elizabeth was not especially strong, but such a direct hit could not fail to sting a little.

"How could you?" she yelled. "You who have been given every opportunity. You benefited from Mr. Darcy's generosity. He paid for your education, and made you almost a member of his family. How could you repay him by hurting his only son?" As she shouted, Elizabeth continued to pummel the man with her fists.

"Ouch!" exclaimed the man. However, he made no effort to defend himself.

"What on God's green earth is happening here?" demanded Parker, who had heard the ruckus and opened the door to Fitzwilliam's chambers.

"This –this devil has just confessed to being the cause of Master Fitzwilliam's injuries!"

"Pardon?" then Parker addressed the man, "Wickham, is this true? You attacked him." Wickham shook his head. "You arranged for others to beat him?" Wickham again shook his head.

"What did you do?"

"I –I left him alone in an unfamiliar area. Then, when I did not hear from him for weeks, I assumed he was avoiding me. I did not try to contact him. He suffered alone for weeks without his family, because I was too selfish!"

"Why do you not come in and tell me the whole story? I believe the doctor will be leaving soon; we can speak more openly soon."

Though Parker did not also invite Eliza into the room, she followed the men anyway, driven not by idle curiosity, but by a desire to protect Fitzwilliam Darcy. The spectacle she witnessed when she entered the room caused rage to flame within her belly.

Upon the bed lay Master Fitzwilliam, curled into a ball and sobbing, while the physician poked and prodded at him. Even worse, Elizabeth recognized the doctor as one whom Mr. Clipper had routinely labeled a charlatan.

"What do you think you are doing, sir? Can you not see you are hurting him?" The doctor bristled, but did not respond to the young maids rude remarks.

"Eliza!" rebuked Parker, "Mr. Hanson is a respected physician. The Darcys have sent for him all the way from Derby. You have no business questioning his methods."

"Maybe I do not," Elizabeth replied abashedly, "but I cannot stand idly by. Look at Master Fitzwilliam."

"So your name is Eliza?" the doctor asked. Upon confirmation he continued, "I will be speaking to Mr. Darcy about you." Elizabeth nodded. She would not worry overmuch about being dismissed; after all, the Brooks family would clearly welcome her back.

As soon as the doctor departed, Elizabeth ran to Fitzwilliam's side and took his hand. "The evil man is gone now," she told him.

Parker chided Elizabeth, "You are not helping. He needs to let the doctor care for him."

"Care for him? That quack?"

"Sometimes you are infuriating, Eliza."

"I do not mean to be, but I would not trust my worst enemy into Mr. Hanson's care. Mr. Clipper told too many stories of patients who were injured at his hands. He certainly was doing Master Fitzwilliam no good."

Parker had no response for Elizabeth. He had been surprised to learn that Elizabeth's vehement reaction to the doctor had been stemmed in knowledge of the man's character and experience. Moreover, Parker had developed conflicting feelings concerning Elizabeth's actions; he felt proud of her compassion, concerned that she would jeopardize her position, and afraid that her outspokenness would reflect poorly on himself. Nevertheless, her actions seemed to benefit Master Fitzwilliam so much that he could not bear to send her from the room.

Parker watched silently as Eliza tenderly ministered to the young master, hoping he was not making a mistake in allowing her to continue.

Then he turned to Wickham, "Tell me, what happened to young Darcy? I had been under the impression that the two of you did not have much friendship left between you."

"We hadn't spent much time together lately until a few weeks ago. At the beginning of term he came to see me. Apparently, Lord James had been moping about, grieving over your departure." Parker tried not to show embarrassment at this mention. "I guess the viscount had confessed that he had treated you badly, and he regretted it. This got Darcy thinking, and he wanted to apologize to me and see if we could renew our friendship. I was suspicious of his motives, but a part of me wanted to see if he was sincere."

"And you must have decided he was?"

"Not at first. But we began playing games together down at the pub. Darcy was terrible at the games, but he kept trying. It's terrible of me, I know," Wickham half smiled as he spoke, "but I loved watching him lose. He has always excelled at everything. The thing that amazed me, though, is that Darcy kept coming back and he even seemed to enjoy himself. He even seemed to get on well with my friends. I ought to have been content with that." Parker looked at Wickham with raised brows, waiting for him to continue.

"Some friends of mine invited us to join them for entertainment when we left the pub one week. They took us to a cock fight. I do not think Darcy enjoyed it much. I should have left off. The next week, the friends invited us out again. I did not think Darcy would come, but he did. I was glad, because I wanted him to join us. I wanted him to know how I spend my time and why. I thought maybe he would not disapprove of me so much."

"I see, and where did you go?"

"It's not fitting to speak of in front of the girl. Let it suffice to say that I knew where we were going and I knew that Mr. Darcy would not approve. There is so much Mr. Darcy does not approve, though, that I cannot find it in my heart to follow all his strictures. Still, I knew that Darcy would not feel that way. I knew he would not want to disappoint his father. I did not tell him where we were going until we had arrived. Darcy was discomfited when he learned what the place was. When I saw he was troubled, I encouraged him to wait until the others had entered and then quietly slip away. He took up my suggestion, either because he did not wish to offend the others or because he was embarrassed. I should have gone with him. Instead, I left him all alone in an unfamiliar place."

"That is all? Then what happened?"

"I heard nothing from Darcy, and I assumed it was because I had earned his disapprobation. I was angry with him for rejecting me, and angry with myself for trusting in his friendship; so, when he did not visit me, I did not visit him. It was not for several weeks that I learned what happened."

Wickham struggled for words as he shared what he next had learned, "Apparently, shortly after we parted ways, Darcy was waylaid by group of ruffians. They brutally beat him, stole all of his belongings. And left him unconscious in the alleyway. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I am not quite sure, he was found by reverend named Pinkley who runs a house for fallen women. He brought Darcy to his home. I believe he fancied himself something of a modern day Good Samaritan."

"Why would that be unfortunate?" Parker wondered.

"I think he harbored some prejudice against Darcy because of where he was found. He had no respect for him. He assumed that Darcy was in that part of town for the reasons I was there. I would not go so far as to say that he believed Darcy deserved to be beaten, but on the other hand, his words to me seem to suggest that he did. This Pinkley thought Fitzwilliam Darcy, who was probably the only scholar at Cambridge who would never consort with..." Wickham suddenly remembered Elizabeth's presence and rephrased his statement, "who always treated all women respectfully, and this poor clergyman thought he deserved all the wrath of God. So you see Parker, I led Darcy to a place of sin. Because of my actions that reverend attributed to Darcy all of my sins! If I had done right, Darcy would never have been attacked. And if I had at least looked for him sooner, maybe I could have corrected that pompous parson. If he had known the truth, maybe Pinkley would have acted with more kindness. Maybe Darcy would not have become so ill."

Eliza watched Parker as he searched for words. She felt great sympathy toward Mr. Wickham. While it was true that he should not have tried to include Master Fitzwilliam in activities of which Mr. Darcy would not approve, and also true that he should not have left the young gentleman alone in an unfamiliar area, Elizabeth could tell that Wickham was sincerely repentant. She also could sympathize with the desire to engage in improper behavior. She knew that there were many times she would have defied Mr. Clipper's edicts if she had believed she could do so without facing punishment. Furthermore, even in her short time at Pemberley, she had come to view Mr. George Darcy as a man who valued the dictates of propriety more than any other concern.

Parker must have felt similarly, for though he expressed disapproval of Wickham's actions, he also tried to assuage his guilt.

"Wickham, please do not feel that you are responsible for Master Fitzwilliam's injuries."

"But I am!"

"If you are so convinced, then perhaps you might atone for your actions by bringing the men who attacked him to justice."

"Believe me, I would love to. However, how would I ever find them."

"You said he was robbed. Why not start by seeking the items stolen?"

"Parker, you are a genius! I have no plans for the future at this point. I will need to pursue some career, but perhaps my father will be willing to support me in this task. I will return to his house forthwith, but first, I have some lemon drops for Darcy."

Parker and Elizabeth watched in wonder as Darcy eyes lit with excitement when he saw the lemon drops.

"I think I will devote my entire first week's pay to buying lemon drops for Master Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth murmured.

"Nonsense, Eliza. You will do no such thing. I am certain Mrs. Bristlethwaite will be happy to order as many as our young master desires." Elizabeth thought she should have been relieved not to have to sacrifice her own pay; instead, she felt oddly disappointed that it would not be her gift which brought Master Fitzwilliam pleasure.


	12. Chapter 14

"Have you heard the news?" Jo asked Elizabeth, about a fortnight after she had begun working at Pemberley. Elizabeth liked Jo very much, though sometimes she felt as though she was betraying Betsy by having made such a good friend so quickly.

"I have not heard any particularly exciting news, lately. Well, unless you count the news I heard yesterday from Mr. Brooks. He has just purchased a new wagon." Elizabeth had visited the Brooks farm the previous day, which was her half day off. She was not sure which she had relished more, the solitary walk or the friendly visit.

"Oh. Well I suppose that's news," stumbled Betsy. "But that's not what I wanted to say. Cook just told me that Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne will be leaving for Bath in few days. I don't know how long they'll be gone, but I am to go home and stay with my family while they're away. I'm so happy!" Elizabeth tried to feel happy for her friend, but she was troubled by the news.

"Do you know why they are leaving? Has Mr. Hanson recommended that Master Fitzwilliam take the waters. He is improving, but I do not think he is in any shape to take such a long journey."

"I don't rightly know, Eliza. I didn't think to ask either. I was too busy thinking about my own self." Jo admittedly, guiltily, and then giggled. Normally Elizabeth loved her new friend's good humor; however, on this day it grated on her. She was too worried about the news and how it would impact Master Fitzwilliam, and whether she would still be able to care for him.

Elizabeth had been able to spend a good deal of time sitting with the young man, singing and reading to him. She had even managed to coax him to eat a little more. Only Mrs. Reynolds and Parker were aware of her extended presence with the young master. Parker had not exactly approved of the arrangement, mostly because he feared Elizabeth would become to attached to the young master. Conversely, Mrs. Reynolds heartily supported anything which might bring "the poor boy" back to health. Thus, Mrs. Reynolds had purposely given Elizabeth very few tasks beyond those relating to the young gentleman's improvement. Their arrangement had purposely been kept secret from Mr. Darcy, whom they believed would certainly disapprove.

"Never mind that, Jo," Eliza responded, "I am sure someone else will let me know. I see you are excited to spend more time with your family. Would you tell me more about them?" Jo happily obliged Elizabeth's request and delivered a monologue about each and every one of her relations. Elizabeth could scarcely concentrate on her friend's words, as she was too preoccupied with weightier matters; thankfully, Jo failed to notice Eliza's inattention.

As soon as she was able to locate Mrs. Reynolds, Elizabeth asked her to verify Jo's news.

"It is true that Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne will be leaving for Bath soon on Mr. Hanson's recommendation. The doctor believes Lady Anne is suffering from cancer of the bowel," Mrs. Reynolds gravely informed her.

Elizabeth gasped, "How dreadful!"

"Does he believe the waters will cure her?" she then inquired doubtfully.

"No. I believe he expects the waters will ease her discomfort. Honestly I think it is criminal to separate Lady Anne and Master Fitzwilliam, but it is not my place to intervene. I cannot believeLady Anne wished to go, but I suppose her respect for her husband prevents her from protesting too loudly. I cannot imagine what Mr. Darcy is thinking."

"Perhaps he is thinking that anything which will give his wife comfort should be done regardless of the cost. That sounds romantic. I do know that he is very much attached to her."

"The young are always turned by thoughts of romance," sighed the older maid.

"Was Mr. Reynolds not so devoted to you?" Mrs. Reynolds laughed.

"My husband loved me very much." Mrs. Reynolds greatly admired Mr. Darcy for his benevolence, most particularly his kindness to the poor. She could not imagine a kinder master, and she did not wish to disrespect him; nevertheless, she believed her poor deceased Mr. Reynolds had been a far superior husband. Of course, she could not say as much, and unfortunately, her silence left Elizabeth suspecting that Mrs. Reynolds had not been happy in her marriage.

"Will Mr. Hanson remain at Pemberley when the master and mistress leave?" asked Elizabeth, returning to the original topic of their conversation. Every time Elizabeth saw the doctor she despised him more. He persisted in trying to poke and prod Master Fitzwilliam, making the young gentleman more fearful. Elizabeth believed that Master Fitzwilliam would heal far more quickly if the doctor would stay away.

"I am not certain. He may wish to travel with them to be of service to Lady Anne." This answer both pleased and angered Elizabeth. On the one hand, the idea of Mr. Hanson departing pleased her very much. On the other, if Mr. Darcy truly believed in Mr. Hanson's skill, he would be behaving callously toward his son by removing the man. She sighed loudly.

"Along with you now, Eliza. If you can convince Master Fitzwilliam to eat this roast chicken Cook made for him, I will give you one of the raspberry tarts I baked last night." Elizabeth's mouth watered as she thought of that tart. She had not really needed any extra motivation to aid Master Fitzwilliam, but the added incentive could not hurt.

"Good Morning, Master Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth chirped as she entered his room. "You absolutely must try this delicious chicken. Well, I will be honest, I have not tasted the chicken, but it does smell good. In fact," Elizabeth teased, "Maybe I should convince you not to eat. Then I could eat the chicken, and no one would ever know."

Fitzwilliam smiled at her as he replied, "Mother would." His smile delighted both Elizabeth and Lady Anne, who had witnessed the exchange as she sat in a chair beside the bed.

"I understand you are traveling to Bath soon, my lady."

"Indeed, we are. I have been ill lately, and I believe taking the waters will help me. I am insisting that Mr. Hanson travel with us."

"It was your idea to travel to Bath and bring the doctor?"

"Indeed." Elizabeth felt that this put an entirely different shade on the matter. She now expected that Lady Anne knew how dreadful Mr. Hanson truly was, and that she had concocted the scheme to remove him from her son's presence.

"I hope you are feeling better soon." Elizabeth wondered what Master Fitzwilliam had been told of his mother's ailment. Did he suspect her to be deathly ill? Did he feel that his parents were abandoning him?

"Thank you."

Elizabeth again looked to Fitzwilliam, and was surprised to see he had already begun to nibble at the chicken, which she had placed on a bed tray for him.

"Would you like me to return later, so as not to intrude upon Lady Anne's visit, sir?"

"Please stay. You must finish the book." Elizabeth would not argue. She had already read more of _Robinson Crusoe_ to Master Fitzwilliam than she had with her father, and she very much wished to learn how the tale ended.

While she read, Mr. Darcy entered the room.

"Dearest, why are you here? I thought we agreed that it was improper for you to be in a gentleman's chambers."

"I did agree. It is improper even if the gentleman is my son."

"Then why are you here," asked an exasperated Mr. Darcy.

"My son needs me," Lady Anne promptly retorted.

"But -"

"No. I think you have forgot, my love, that what is proper is not necessarily the same as what is right."

Mr. Darcy sighed, "I still do not approve, but I know it is futile to argue with you when your heart is decided."

"Thank you."

"And what is she doing here? Surely someone else might be found to read to the lad. It is one thing to have a serving girl in the room to stoke the fire and deliver a meal. But this situation is asking for trouble."

"Can you not see that it comforts our son? He is not afraid of her. Besides, she is just a little girl." Mr. Darcy carefully scrutinized Elizabeth. Though he had seen her often, the gentleman had never truly looked at the maid before. Realizing that she was being examined, Elizabeth felt grateful for the dictates Mrs. Bristlethwaite had issued regarding her appearance.

Before that moment, Elizabeth had gained the impression that Mr. Darcy was cruel, heartless, and domineering. His next words disproved her suppositions. Mr. Darcy might be a cold man, with firm ideas about maintaining propriety and the appearance thereof, but he definitely loved his son.

"Very well. Eliza, I will allow this if you will agree to always have another person present when you are going to be in this room for more than the briefest of visits. Also, you must agree that once my son is well you will have leave Pemberley. I will help you to secure another position if that is your wish. Or if you prefer, I will help to arrange a marriage for you." Elizabeth gasped, but Mr. Darcy did not pause. "Furthermore, if even the slightest whisper of indiscretion arises from this arrangement, you will need to marry. I am sure I could easily make an arrangement with one of tenant farmers, even if you have little to recommend you as a wife."

"Father!" rebuked Master Fitzwilliam.

"I suppose that was an ungentlemanly thing to say," Mr. Darcy replied. Elizabeth grinned at this almost apology.

Lady Anne then added, "Besides, husband, I have observed that Mr. Parker is very fond of young Eliza. I do not doubt that he would marry her in a trice if he could."

"Is this true?" Mr. Darcy asked Eliza.

"Mr. Parker is a good friend to me."

"In that case, perhaps I should broker a marriage between the two of you now. I would be willing to provide you with a dowry, a sort of payment for the services you are providing to Fitzwilliam." Lady Anne thought this a sound solution, and said so, but Elizabeth shook her head.

"Surely you do not object to Parker."

"I have no objection to him, sir," responded Elizabeth. "He is a good man, with a gentlemanly manner. Still, I am only thirteen. I do not wish to marry anyone." Mr. Darcy nodded with comprehension; after all, her youth was a major factor in his decision to allow the girl to spend time in Fitzwilliam's bedroom.

"Very well, I will speak with Parker. Perhaps he will agree to an understanding that if your reputation is besmirched, he will agree to marry you." Elizabeth nodded.

"And I will do my very best to avoid any appearance of immoral behavior. I do not think it is so unusual for an injured man to be tended by a nursemaid, Mr. Darcy. So I expect your fears are unfounded." Mr. Darcy nodded, to show he had heard her words. He did not like this young maid at all. He found her vulgar, rude, and impertinent; nevertheless, she seemed to be helping his son, and he so he would tolerate her for the time being.

That evening, Elizabeth was informed that the housekeeper wished to speak with her. She apprehensively wandered into the housekeeper's room, fearing a reprimand, though she was not certain precisely why. She had behaved poorly many times since arriving at Pemberley, but most of her misbehavior had occurred before the master or mistress. Thus, she would have expected either of them to administer any disciplinary action.

Nevertheless, Mrs. Bristlethwaite had no intention of rebuking Elizabeth. "How are you faring, Eliza?" the older woman asked.

"I am well."

"Have you settled in comfortably here, then?"

"I have. Mrs. Reynolds has helped to ease the transition, tremendously."

"I am glad. Has Lady Anne spoken with you today?"

"Yes, we did speak earlier."

"Do you need the rest of today free from your duties to process the news." Elizabeth assumed that she was referring to Lady Anne's cancer, and did not inquire further.

"No ma'am. The news is naturally distressing, but I do not believe I need extra time off."

"Very well. I do not know if you will wish to write. However, Lady Anne informed me that you are to be provided with ink and paper should you wish it. You do not worry about the cost of any return letters you receive either. The household will assume the expense." Eliza thought it only right that Pemberley would assume the expense of letters she wrote to the master and mistress regarding their son's condition, and she could not imagine any other letters Mrs. Bristlethwaite could mean. However, the housekeeper seemed to wish for some response, so Elizabeth politely thanked her.

Mrs. Bristlethwaite was disappointed that Elizabeth did not seem more thankful for the generosity offered to her. Nevertheless, she reminded herself that, though the girl did not seemed visibly distraught, she must be somewhat distressed by the news that both of her grandfathers were deceased.

The housekeeper had been particularly grateful when Lady Anne had agreed to inform Eliza of the letters which she had received. After Elizabeth's initial interview, Mrs. Bristlethwaite had written to each of Elizabeth's grandparents, though she had not mentioned her reasons for wishing to communicate.

The first response Mrs. Bristlethwaite received read as follows:

 _Dear Madam,_

 _I regret to inform you that Mr. Andrew Bennet has been deceased for almost six years. His heir resides in London, where he is in trade in the textiles industry. I have held the lease of the manor for nearly four years, but have had little contact with the master. I will include his address in case you wish to contact him._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Peter Goulding_

The second provided even less information.

 _Mrs. Bristlethwaite,_

 _I received your letter three days ago, and I have searched through all of my files for any labeled Bristlethwaite. I am not certain what sort of business you had with Mr. Gardiner and will need more information before I can help you. Unfortunately, Mr. Gardiner passed away several years ago, and I took over his practice. However, I would be happy to assist you any way I can._

 _B. Phillips_

Mrs. Bristlethwaite had given the two letters to her mistress, who had agreed to inform Eliza of their contents. Lady Anne had further suggested that Eliza should be encouraged to write to her grandfather's heir with the hope of learning more about the rest of her family.

This discussion had occurred before Mr. Hanson had diagnosed Lady Anne with cancer of the stomach, and the mistress could easily be forgiven for forgetting to discharge the duty promptly. However, after that morning's encounter in which Mr. Darcy agreed to continue allowing Eliza to nurse Fitzwilliam, Lady Anne made a conscious decision to withhold the information. She feared that if Eliza learned of her grandfathers' demise, she might be less able to cheerfully assist Fitzwilliam. Moreover, she worried that if Elizabeth did make contact with her relations, it might interfere with her ability to act as a nursemaid. Mrs. Bristlethwaite never suspected her mistress's duplicity, and Elizabeth never suspected that anyone had written letters on her behalf.


	13. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:**

 **I would like to issue a heartfelt apology to all of my readers.**

 **It had not been my original intention to include rape in the story. It was supposed to be a light-hearted romp. However, sometimes when I am writing the characters and circumstances take turns that I do not anticipate. When I am depressed and afflicted by negative memories it affects my thoughts and in turn my writing. When I realized the dark turn my story was taking, I fully intended to change the blurb to reflect the change. Unfortunately, I made a completely scatter-brained error. I spent a great deal of time reflecting upon precisely how I should word the new plot summary. Then I rewrote it in a way I thought would explain the needed information without violating the ffn policy that all summaries must be rated k. However, despite my attempt to be thoughtful, I forgot to click the "submit" button. It was an honest mistake, and I truly regret that people were hurt because of it. I did not intend to hurt anyone, but people were hurt by my actions, and what has been read cannot be unread. It is somewhat ironic, I suppose, that in a story whose major theme is the unintended consequences which selfish, thoughtless, and ignorant actions can have, that I have thoughtlessly injured my readers. I imagine that if you are still reading by this point, that you are willing to forgive my error. And I thank you for that.**

 **I also have several readers who would like to see the removed, offensive chapter posted with a mature rating. I do not intend to do so at this, but I will consider the possibility.**

 **I do very much appreciate the thoughtful feedback I receive. By taking the time to review my stories and send me PMs, you help me to become a better writer and help me to understand the way my words are perceived.**

 **Again I sincerely apologize for any pain I have caused. It is my hope that those of you are continuing to read this story will have increased compassion for those who have suffered like Darcy. Unlike some reviewers, I do not believe that he is destroyed. I know he can and will recover, and eventually he and Elizabeth will find their happily ever after.**

 _Dear Lady Anne,_

Elizabeth wrote.

 _I hope you have arrived safely._

She struggled for how to phrase her next statement. She wanted to let the mistress know that her son's healing had sped remarkably since the removal of Mr. Hanson. However, she did not wish to insult the lady or to imply that the young man improved because of his parents' absence. She settled for describing the events, rather than attributing any particular cause.

 _Master Fitzwilliam continues to recover. He has been able to rise from his bed with assistance._

Elizabeth blushed as she wrote, remembering the way it had felt to have the young man wrap his arm around her for support. She wisely did not express whose assistance Fitzwilliam had received.

 _He has not yet managed to walk, but I intend to see if he can walk the three steps to his bedside chair today._

 _Master Fitzwilliam's appetite is inconsistent. There are still days when he refuses to eat; however, most days he can be tempted with his favorite foods. The only thing he never refuses is lemon drops. Though he remains far thinner than when I first saw him at Matlock, he is regaining some weight._

 _As you know I finished reading Robinson Crusoe to Master Fitzwilliam before your departure. You may not be aware that he requested that I read the story again. Upon completion he insisted that I read it a third time. Hearing the story calms him, and so I continue, but I continue to hope he will allow me to read something different._

Although Elizabeth had longed to learn what had happened to Robinson Crusoe, reading the story had been somewhat painful for her because it reminded her of her father. Still, she could not deny any comfort she could provide to the suffering young master.

 _I know Mr. Darcy is looking for another doctor for Master Fitzwilliam, but I believe such an action is unnecessary. I know that Mr. Darcy would never consider my opinion, though. So I merely beg you that if another physician must be sent, please ensure that he possesses a gentle manner._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Elizabeth Bennet_

When Elizabeth had completed this letter, she looked longingly at the paper and ink. She very much desired to write to her family, but she was determined that she would not spend a penny unless it was absolutely necessary until she had fully paid the debt she owed Lady Matlock. Still, before leaving the study she allowed herself to daydream about the letters she would write when she could afford to write them. Should she write to Longbourn and hope the current master knew where to find her uncle or her aunts and especially her sisters? She did not suppose Old Mr. Bennet still lived. Or perhaps she should write to her Gardiner grandparents?

She daydreamed about the pleasant response she would receive. Then she stopped herself. After all, she did not know why her family had not kept her. Moreover, she did not know why she had never heard from them. Had Mr. Clipper really been lying when he said he had been unable to reach her family? Elizabeth felt certain that Mrs. Bloom would know the truth of that matter at least, and she was sure Mrs. Bloom would give her an honest answer.

Elizabeth was momentarily overcome with a thirst for the truth. She grabbed a paper and hastily began writing.

Dear Mrs. Bloom,

 _I miss you all so very much. Especially the girls. Please give everyone my love. You cannot imagine how heartily I regret selling that bit of lace to Miss Davis. I do not doubt that I deserved the punishment of being sent away. Mr. Clipper was very generous to me, treating me as a family member and I repaid him by disobeying his instructions._

In truth, Elizabeth felt the punishment had not been fitting to the crime, but she did realize that Mr. Clipper owed her nothing.

I _am writing not just because I miss you, but because I have a question I hope you will answer. When I first arrived in Derby, Mr. Clipper assured me that he would make every effort to contact my relations. He reported that he had been unsuccessful. Do you know if he did actually look_ for them?

Elizabeth proceeded to fill the rest of the page with stories about her life since leaving the Clippers. When there was barely room for a jot and tittle more, she signed 'Lizzy'.

She folded the letter for Mrs. Bloom and the one for Lady Anne, and placed them with the outgoing mail.

Though she had no reason to believe anyone would discover her actions, Elizabeth spent the rest of the afternoon plagued by guilt. Finally she could bear it no more, and she stopped in the middle of a sentence she was reading and ran to the housekeeper's study. Once there, she sat down and burst into tears.

"Dear child, whatever is the matter?" Mrs. Bristlethwaite kindly intoned.

"I am a terrible person!" Mrs. Bristlethwaite gently prodded until Elizabeth revealed that she had stolen a sheet of paper in order to write to the sister of her former guardian.

"Oh Eliza, do not fret! Why do you not simply pay for the paper now, and we will forget this ever happened? Elizabeth conceded, but the tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

Eventually the housekeeper was able to pry from the young maid her concerns about her unpaid debts to Lady Matlock. Elizabeth was not, however, willing to admit the reason she had been dismissed from Matlock.

"Eliza, I will send the money to Matlock today to pay your debts. Then you will not have to owe a farthing to your former employer. You may pay me back as you are able. Will that suit you?"

"Yes, ma'am. It suits me very well," Elizabeth responded with a sniffle.

"I am concerned for you Eliza," added Mrs. Bristlethwaite, who had noticed signs of strain on the young girl's countenance. "You look rather worn down. Has your workload been too much?"

"It is not the workload, ma'am. There is far less work expected of me here than at Matlock. I am just so tired. Always tired."

"I know from Mrs. Reynolds that you have only been up past ten twice since arriving. Are you having difficulty sleeping?"

"Are you aware that Master Fitzwilliam has nightmares?" Mrs. Bristlethwaite confirmed that she was. She doubted there was a soul in the manor who had not heard the young masters screams at some point. "Parker cannot calm him. Thus, every night I am fetched to sit with Master Fitzwilliam. Then I sing to him or read to him until he calms. He will then sleep soundly the rest of the night so long as I remain beside him and hold his hand. I do not mind being there. I am glad to help him, truly. In truth –and perhaps this is a sign of vanity- I am pleased to be so needed. But it is exhausting. Sometimes I skip breakfast so that I can sleep, but I know I must always be at morning prayers."

"My goodness."

"On Sundays, I manage to attend services. I always attend the Kymptom services so that I might not be away from Master Fitzwilliam for long. I have only taken my full day off on Sunday once because Master Fitzwilliam was so distraught when I returned. I want to be a good nursemaid Mrs. Britstlethwaite, but I do not believe I can do it much longer. If there had been anything at hand to throw, I likely would have thrown it at the servant who came to wake me last night." Mrs. Bristlethwaite laughed.

"Eliza, as the housekeeper here it is my responsibility not only to see that the work is done, but also to see that the staff are properly looked after. I cannot allow this situation to continue. Right now, I am ordering you to bed. For the time being, you will not be assigned any work unrelated to your nursing duties. You are also exempt from attending morning prayers. I will try to arrange for the curate to visit Master Fitzwilliam's chambers to have prayers with him and you as well. And Mr. Parker, also, for he has been exempt from attending prayers since arriving."

"Thank you, so much."

"I know that Mr. Darcy will not allow just anyone to tend his son, but we need to find another to aid him."

"Are you aware that Mr. Darcy is particularly wary of men? I believe that is why Mr. Parker is unable to assist him more."

"I did not know that. In any case, I would not allow just any servant to serve the young gentleman. Perhaps one of his female relations might be persuaded to visit."

"That may be a good idea, but please be certain it is someone who will be gentle."

"I will see what I can do, Eliza. Thank you for your honesty today. It takes a great deal of courage to confess a wrong." Elizabeth began to cry again.

"I stole something else, once…" Elizabeth paused to gather her words. "Shortly after I arrived, I realized that Lady Anne wore exactly the same perfume my mother used to wear. I –I found the scent so comforting. One day when I was in her chambers alone, I sprayed some of the perfume of a handkerchief. I keep it with me always because it reminds me of mama.

"Poor child," was all Mrs. Bristlethwaite said, as she took Eliza in her arms and cradled her as she would have a much younger girl. Once Elizabeth's tears were completely spent, Mrs. Bristlethwaite shooed her off to bed. Then she penned a letter to the only of Darcy's female relations she thought might qualify as gentle.


	14. Chapter 16

Chapter XVI

"Where have you been?" barked Fitzwilliam Darcy when Elizabeth returned to his chambers. She naturally flinched upon hearing his harsh tone. Seeing her fear, the young man was filled with guilt.

However, the girl quickly hid her fear and drew herself up to her fullest height before responding, "I have been reposing in my room just as Mrs. Bristlethwaite commanded." For a brief moment Fitzwilliam viewed the maid not as a little girl, but as the formidable lady she would one day become.

"I am sincerely sorry for my poor manners, Eliza. My father is continually reminding me that I must always treat our servants with kindness and respect."

"Your father?" stammered Elizabeth in reply. Mr. Darcy had showed her neither, although she supposed that his plan to see her marry Parker if her reputation became tainted could be seen as a kindness of sorts.

Fitzwilliam ignored her comment about his father, instead continuing to explain his harsh manner. "I was angry that you were not here, not because of anything you had done, but because..." Fitzwilliam paused for a few minutes, gathering his words, "because the demons plague me so much more when you are not here."

"Demons, sir?"

"Always taunting. Always whispering. Never letting me forget."

"You are troubled by memories of the attack?"

"Yes." He replied curtly, then changed his answer. "No. Not precisely. I do not remember the attack. I remember being dragged into an alleyway, and then nothing more until I woke the next day. I have pieced together what happened to me based on my injuries and based on the comments of the man who found me. I wish I did remember, for I scarce believe that what truly happened could compare to the images my mind has created." Elizabeth could think of no appropriate response.

"The shame and the guilt assail me. I cannot bear to look at myself, vile being that I am."

"But you were attacked, sir. Why should you be ashamed?"

Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth with sorrow-filled eyes. "You would not understand," he whispered.

"No, sir," retorted Elizabeth, "I believe it is you who lacks understanding. The Bible tells us that what comes out of the mouth makes us unclean –what we speak, not the things we eat. I think it is safe to say that God would not condemn us for the evils perpetrated upon us, but instead for the actions we choose to take."

"But the minister who found me clearly despised me for what they had done. And he was a man of God, genuinely dedicated to serving others! And my favorite professor came to visit me..." Fitzwilliam tried to stop the tears which began to stream from his eyes, but he could not. "He chastised me for becoming," Fitzwilliam paused a long while and then spoke only in the barest whisper, "becoming guilty of the sin of Sodom."

"Oh, Master Fitzwilliam," replied an exasperated Elizabeth. Her own understanding of the matter could not enlighten her as to the depths of the young master's shame. "I doubt there are many young gentlemen who escape such sin. That is why it is so hard for rich men to get to Heaven." Elizabeth blushed slightly for her impertinence.

"You think most gentleman have committed sodomy?" demanded an astonished Fitzwilliam.

"I do not know that word, sodomy, sir. But the sin of Sodom was excessive pride, and idleness, and fullness of bread. God condemned Sodom because the people of Sodom ignored the needs of the poor and acted selfishly. Mr. Clipper made me memorize a verse about that. He probably thought I was being too idle. Anyway, it should not astonish you that so many men with no profession would fall prey to idleness, or that those who have been in the highest echelons of society might be eaten up with pride." Elizabeth was surprised to see that Fitzwilliam no longer attempted hold his tears at bay, but was weeping openly.

"I am sorry, sir. I do not mean to be so impertinent." Through his tears, Fitzwilliam smiled at Elizabeth.

"You should not be sorry. You have given me hope. But I still cannot shake the feeling that I am to blame."

"I understand, Master Fitzwilliam." Fitzwilliam looked at her doubtfully, not believing that she could comprehend him. "Maybe it is not the same, but when a particular gentleman asked me to be his mistress, I felt dirty and ashamed. I still question my behavior and my manners. I know somehow I must have suggested to him that I would appreciate his advances. I honestly did not mean to." Elizabeth's tale caused Fitzwilliam to forget his own distress for a short time, as he was filled with a desire to protect her.

"I am sure you are mistaken, Eliza. You are too good, too pure, too innocent. Any man who could make such a vile offer to you could not deserve the title gentleman." Elizabeth shook her head.

"Tell me who the man was!"

"Lord James Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth answered bashfully, wondering if the young master's tune would change when he knew the man in question was his cousin. Fitzwilliam sighed softly.

"My cousin confessed to me that there was a young maid he tried to scare away. It must have been you. I do not think he actually meant to make you his mistress, Eliza. He knew you would refuse."

"I do not understand, sir. Why would he make such an offer, then?"

"This may sound insane. However, he was jealous of your friendship with Parker. He thought his proposition would cause you to leave Matlock, and then he thought life would return to normal. You did leave, as he planned, but so did Parker."

"I did not choose to leave. Your aunt dismissed me!"

"In any case, had I known what James had actually done..." Fitzwilliam's voice trailed off.

"If you had known?"

"I do not know what I would have done differently. James was so devastated by Parker's departure. He sincerely regretted his actions, not I believe, because he had injured you, but because he had injured his dear friend."

"The viscount never seemed to be much of a friend to Parker, as far as I could tell."

"Friendship between the classes is always a difficult thing. Despite his affection for Parker, my cousin did not treat him fairly."

"And because of Parker's affection for Lord James, he did not object to the unfairness."

"Until an innocent party was injured." Elizabeth's eyes shone with tears.

"Mr. Parker is a good man."

"Perhaps I should try to trust him for your sake." Elizabeth nodded.

"I do not think I can let him shave me, though."

"No one will force you to allow it." Elizabeth thought some of Fitzwilliam's tension left with this reassurance.

"I would like to try to shave myself."

"Of course, sir. I ask Parker to bring you supplies."

"You must stay with me, though."

"Why, sir?"

"Because I am afraid I will cut myself. If you are with me, though, I know that I will not." Elizabeth agreed to stay, though she did not think her presence could truly be helpful. She could not know that Fitzwilliam feared that, once he had a razor in his hand, the temptation to harm himself would be too great without her calming presence.

Elizabeth watched with fascination as Fitzwilliam shaved off the beard he had grown for many weeks. She noticed how shocked he became when he first spied himself in the looking glass and correctly assumed that he had avoided all mirrors since being attacked.

When his chin was finally bare, Fitzwilliam looked into the glass with a combination of satisfaction and distress. He felt pleased to have accomplished a task which had become monumental to him, but he was distraught to see what he had allowed himself to become.

Seeing him continue to watch himself, Elizabeth teased, "We all know how incredibly handsome you are, sir, there is no need for you to stare at yourself so." Her words surprised Fitzwilliam, but one glance reassured him that she had no intention of sounding flirtatious.

"I was merely reflecting that if I no longer look like a shipwrecked hero, perhaps it is time to hear a different story. I know you have tired of rereading my favorite. Perhaps you would choose another from the library." Elizabeth practically jumped at this suggestion.

"The library! You will allow me to enter the library? I have heard that it contains thousands of books. Oh, it must be almost like heaven. May I go and select a volume now, sir?" Fitzwilliam laughed heartily and granted her a broad smile. Indeed, for a few moments, his delight in her innocent enthusiasm had driven away all of his shame, sorrow and fear.

"By all means, go at once, Eliza!" Seeing the girl rush toward the servants' entrance of his room, he redirected her. "Your trip will be quicker if you go through the main corridor." Eliza looked at Master Fitzwilliam with widened eyes, and he thought he detected a small bit of fear in them.  
"I have never entered the main corridor, sir." The young gentleman smiled softly in response.

"An oversight, I am certain. Father generally wishes for the servants to tour the manor when they first arrive. He believes they will take more pride in their positions if they see how truly beautiful Pemberley is." Elizabeth nodded. Fitzwilliam looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "I ought to send you to ask one of the other servants for a tour immediately, but I am too selfish. I am eager for you to return with a book."

"'Tis not selfish at all. I am, after all, your nursemaid." Having said this Elizabeth skipped to the door and swung it open. As she did so, she was unexpectedly knocked over by the force of a little girl who had been leaning on the other side of the door.

Elizabeth surveyed the child, who appeared to be about nine years old. Her features were fairer than her mother's, but the family resemblance was striking.

"Pardon me, Miss. I should not have opened the door so swiftly." Elizabeth apologized, assuming the entirety of the blame for the situation. The little girl, however, despite being painfully shy had a strong sense of fairness.

"Not at all," replied the girl, with cheeks almost a red as a turnip, "It was my fault. I should not have been here eavesdropping. I hope you will not tell Miss Pennywick."

"Georgiana? Is that you?"

"Brother!" exclaimed the child, rushing to Fitzwilliam's side.

"I thought you had gone to Bath with Mother and Father!"

"I would not go. I did not wish to miss seeing you as soon as you could leave your room." Suddenly Georgiana stopped, realizing that her behavior was naughty. "I should not be here. Father would not approve." Fitzwilliam paled.

"Why should he disapprove?"

"Miss Pennywick told me that a lady should never enter a gentleman's room unless they were married. And I know Father agrees because I heard him arguing with Mother after she visited you here." Fitzwilliam sighed.

"You are hardly a lady, dearest. Just a little girl."

"I am not so very little, Brother!"

"No indeed. I would not have you get into trouble for my sake, dearest, but it is good to see you." Elizabeth was touched by the genuine warmth with which Master Fitzwilliam spoke to his young sister. "Now that I know you are here, I will simply have to work harder at getting well so that we might spend more time together." Georgiana smiled brightly, then she frowned a little as she turned to leave the room. "Perhaps you might help Eliza find a book to read to me. She has never been to the library before."

"Why can she be in your room when I cannot?" demanded Georgiana.

"Eliza is a servant, little one. You are a gentleman's daughter." Elizabeth swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Eliza, please take my sister with you to the library." Elizabeth nodded, then gestured for Georgiana to lead the way.

"Your name is Eliza?" Georgiana said to Elizabeth when the two were in the corridor.

"That is what I am called."

"Is it not your name?"

"My name is Elizabeth. My family always called me Lizzy, but your aunt decided I should be called Eliza; so, I am Eliza now." Elizabeth tried not to sound bitter as she spoke.

"Lady Catherine? She always thinks everyone should do exactly as she says! I hate visiting her!"

"I was referring to Lady Matlock."

"Lady Matlock is usually much kinder than Lady Catherine." Elizabeth did not have any fond feelings for her former mistress, but she would not contradict the lady's niece.

When Elizabeth said nothing, Georgiana changed the subject. "When Cousin Richard was injured two years ago, I traveled with Mother to Matlock. Lady Matlock stayed by his side almost the whole time. Does that make her not a proper lady?"

"I think that makes her a loving mother. Just as your mother spent time with your brother."

"I still do not understand. Why is it allowed for you to nurse Fitzwilliam, but not for me? Even if I am a gentleman's daughter and you are not."

"I am a gentleman's daughter!" Elizabeth replied defiantly.

Georgiana flinched at Elizabeth's harsh tone. "But you are just a maid. A gentleman's daughter cannot be a maid!" Elizabeth shook her head and laughed, finding she could not be too angry at the young girl's assumptions.

"A gentleman's daughter whose father is no longer living can. I think the rules of propriety are often more of a way for people who have money to distinguish themselves from those who do not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in homes where there are no servants, or very few. The womenfolk enter the men's rooms everyday to make up the beds and to dust. When the men lie sick abed, the women enter their rooms to tend them. Mrs. Brooks enters the rooms of her grown sons daily because someone needs to do the work. Only the families who can afford to pay someone else to do the job consider it improper. Mrs. Brooks may not be a lady by society's standards, and yet she is as fine a person as I know."

"That only makes it seem more unfair!" Elizabeth had no response to this statement, for the pair had reached the library. Elizabeth's jaw dropped in amazement.

"Miss Darcy, this place is magnificent!"

"I suppose," replied the young miss, not understanding Elizabeth's enthusiasm. However, Elizabeth was so absorbed in her excitement that she failed to even notice Miss Darcy's response. She rushed through the shelves of books, brushing her hands against the spines, wanting to touch each one, as if to verify that the tomes were in fact real and not a product of her overactive imagination. For a few minutes, all the troubles of the outside world were completely forgot.

Elizabeth's zeal amused Georgiana, who could not help giggling, causing Elizabeth to recollect herself.

"Pardon me, Miss Darcy. I have never seen so many volumes before in my life. Honestly, your beautiful library contains more books than all of the collections I have ever seen combined."

"Perhaps I would appreciate that more if I could read them all."

"Can you not?"

"These are the books I am allowed to read," Georgian replied, gesturing to a pair of bookcases near the entrance of the room.

"I suppose," Elizabeth sighed, "that I ought to limit myself to these as well. It would not do for me to be reading aloud to your brother and come upon some unladylike passage." Elizabeth giggled as she spoke. Georgiana's laughter soon joined Elizabeth's, which caused Elizabeth to laugh even harder. Before long the two girls were laughing so hard their bellies shook and tears poured down their cheeks.

Mrs. Bristlethwaite happened to be passing the library and naturally sought the source of the disturbance. The sight before her warmed her heart.

"My goodness ladies, whatever has amused you so?" When the housekeeper entered, the two girls sobered instantly. However, upon hearing the question, each of the girls looked to the other to answer, and when their eyes met, both began laughing again. Each time the girls began to calm, their eyes would meet and they would begin all over until their laughter was completely spent.

Finally, Elizabeth recalled herself and exclaimed, "I had best hurry and find a book. Your brother must be impatient for me to return with it."

"I am sure he will not reprimand you, Lizzy; he is never harsh to me." Elizabeth smiled at the young girl who innocently believed that a man who would not treat his sister unkindly would necessarily be kind to the servants. Nevertheless, it was not Fitzwilliam's ire which concerned her.

"It is difficult for him to be alone with no one to comfort him, Miss Darcy."

"Oh! I wish I could comfort him," Georgiana replied, sighing. "I must convince Papa to allow me into Fitzwilliam's chambers."

"I think not, Miss Darcy." The younger girl frowned. "Do not misunderstand me. I fully believe you can be a great help to your brother; however, I wish to use you as bait to lure him from his bedroom. In the meantime, perhaps you could write encouraging notes for him."

Mrs. Bristlethwaite smiled kindly at the pair, privately bemoaning the cruel twist of fate that had left them in different spheres. She wondered if Mr. Darcy might be persuaded to help poor Eliza return to a position more befitting her birthright. Maybe he could even be convinced to pay for schooling so that she could become a governess; after all, she was doing a great favor to the family with her tender care for the young master.

Aloud the housekeeper suggested, "Take Aesop's Fables. Mrs. Reynolds mentioned once that it was Master Fitzwilliam's favorite when he was first learning to read. He was so enamored of the tale of the tortoise and the hair that he insisted on replicating the race. So he found a rabbit and a turtle and let them free in the main hall. To the poor lad's disappointment, the rabbit raced away directly, while his opponent just lay still on the tile floor." Elizabeth and Georgiana giggled.

"I will bring it. Please let Mrs. Reynolds know that I wish to speak with her later as well." Mrs. Bristlethwaite agreed, and sent the maid on her way.

Elizabeth scampered down the hall, feeling much more lighthearted than she had in long while. She reflected that the laughter she and Miss Darcy had shared had lightened the burden on her heart.

With this new understanding, Elizabeth resolved that she would endeavor to make Master Fitzwilliam laugh as much as possible. After all A merry heart does good like medicine.


	15. Chapter 17

Chapter XVII

"I am so excited! We are going to have the most wonderful day, Lizzy! I used to think the housekeeper was old and boring, but now I know that she is absolutely splendid." Georgiana Darcy declared while bouncing on the bench of the carriage. Elizabeth grinned, at the young girl's display, and felt no less excited, though she kept her amusement more private.

"Mrs. Bristlethwaite is a fine housekeeper. I, too, am glad that she is allowing me to accompany you on your errand into the village. She easily could have told you to wait a day; you could have accomplished your errands just as well, but I would not have been needed."

"I had much rather be with you than Miss Pennywick. I am glad it is her day off."

"Now tell me, Miss Darcy," Elizabeth replied. "What errands have you that could not be put off for a day or two? They must be quite important if they are so urgent."

"I need more pencils and paper. I wish to make a book for Fitzwilliam. Also, I would like to buy some sweets, and I wish to give my brother some flowers."

"I see," smiled Elizabeth, managing to hide the tinge of envy she felt toward the little girl who had so much pocket money.

"Of course, we must have a sweet or two ourselves. We must test them to ensure the quality before I can offer them to Fitzwilliam."

"Because the quality of the sweets from that shop is often poor?"

"Oh no! Not at all. They are so delicious," Georgiana then blushed and giggled, "Very well, Lizzy, I do not really need test the sweets, but it seemed selfish to say I was buying some for myself."

"You are devoting nearly all your time and energy to your brother, not to mention a fair amount of your allowance, surely you have earned the rights for a sweet or two."

"I wish I had been doing more all along. I am so glad you suggested that I send him notes and such. Oh, I do so wish I had met you more than a week ago. If it is as you have said, and my little gifts help Brother recover, then I should have been giving them all along."

"Never you mind, Miss Darcy. Now were you planning to purchase fresh flowers, or did you intend to make them yourself?"

"Oh," replied the child thoughtfully, "I had planned to purchase them. I would not begin to know how to make flowers. But do you suppose Brother would like them better if they were handmade?"

"I am sure your brother would like any gift you made. If you would like to purchase some ribbons, I can teach you how to make simple ribbon roses when we return to Pemberley."

"Oh would you, please? You know how to do everything, Lizzy!" Lizzy laughed.

"You shall have me vain as a peacock ere long Miss Darcy!"

The carriage was, by now, rolling into the sleepy, little village of Lambton. A footman quickly assisted the two girls from the carriage, treating the maid and mistress with equal respect. Then the footman followed them as they attended their errands.

In each shop they entered, Elizabeth was greeted by many friendly faces, and she did not hesitate to introduce each of them to her young charge. It never occurred to her that the Darcys of Pemberley might not wish for their daughter to associate with the local farmers and tradesmen or their children. Nevertheless, for the most part, she did remember her position, and she tried to remain focused on Miss Darcy's needs. Indeed, she took pride in her current situation as it was clear many of the villagers envied the her good fortune in obtaining employment at Pemberley.

However, one chance meeting did cause Elizabeth to completely forget herself.

"Miss Lizzy! Is that really you?" Elizabeth looked up to see her old friend Miss Davis.

"Indeed it is! How have you been?" Elizabeth eyed Miss Davis hungrily, hoping for news of all her acquaintance from Derby.

"I have had the most lovely time. I spent several weeks with my cousin Mrs. Gardiner in London." When Lizzy heard the name Gardiner, she practically gasped. Then she reminded herself that it was a fairly common name; Miss Davis' cousin likely had no relation to her own family. Still, she could not resist fishing for more information.

"I remembered that your cousin had married, but I do not think I knew her married name. Is her husband a London native?"

"I believe he hails from Hertfordshire."

"Has he any relations there still?" Mrs. Davis did not notice that her companion was practically salivating in her hunger for more information.

"He does. His brother is an attorney in a small village called, Meryville or something similar."

"Meryton," whispered Elizabeth. "My Grandfather Gardiner was the solicitor in Meryton. My Uncle Gardiner was his only son, and did not wish to study the law, so perhaps some cousin of his has taken the practice."

"Lizzy, can we please go now," Miss Darcy tugged on Elizabeth's sleeve.

"Excuse me, Miss Davis. I am accompanying Miss Darcy today. I cannot speak longer. I would very much like to hear more about your trip to London. May I call on you on my next day off?"

"I should like that very much Miss Lizzy. Perhaps you could help me trim my new bonnet as well? By the by, I do not suppose you could recommend a different haberdashery to me since Mr. Clipper has sold his shop." Elizabeth looked at the young Lady in wide-eyed astonishment. However, because of Miss Darcy's impatience, she merely offered a simple reply.

"Try Thompson's."

After the encounter with Miss Davis, Georgiana was dismayed to find her companion surprisingly silent. Though Lizzy remained helpful and gentle, their were no more bursts of giggles that afternoon. Georgiana nearly worked up the necessary courage to inquire as to Lizzy's despondent mood, but found herself incapable. Then when the two returned to Pemberley, such a surprise awaited them that Georgiana completely forgot Elizabeth's odd manner.

As soon as the girls entered Pemberley's front door, Mrs. Bristlethwaite greeted them. "Master Fitzwilliam is awaiting you in his mother's sitting room. He desires for you to take tea with him, Miss Georgiana." The two girls darted off together, rushing to the appointed room. Elizabeth did not consider that the invitation had not included her until just before she reached the door. She suddenly recalled that she was only a servant, and would not be expected to take tea with the young master.

Before Elizabeth could back away, Fitzwilliam spied her, and called her into the room. "Eliza would you please join us?" he politely requested. As she entered the room, Elizabeth wondered how she ought to behave. She looked questioningly at the young master and then at his young sister.

"Please take tea with us Lizzy, you must pour, for I would surely spill!" Fitzwilliam smiled at his sister's invitation, and so Elizabeth acceded quickly. She had frequently served tea to Master Fitzwilliam, but this occasion felt vastly different. She had to remind herself that she was merely a maid and not a member of the family party.

After serving, Elizabeth settled herself closely enough that she could easily hear the Darcys' conversation, but not so close that they would feel obligated to include her. Then she allowed her mind to wander to her earlier interactions with Miss Davis. She tried to remember her mother's cousins, but beyond a few vague recollections, she could not. Moreover, though she had long supposed her grandfather's health must have failed or that he had passed on, the confirmation which Miss Davis' words had indirectly supplied wounded Elizabeth. Furthermore, she soon imagined at least a dozen scenarios which might have prompted Mr. Clipper to sell his shop and leave Derby. She had always held tightly to the secret belief that if her life became dreadful, she might flee to Mr. Clipper and beg mercy. Though she could not imagine him welcoming her back into the family fold, she believed he might at least accept her as an employee. Now, Elizabeth could not even begin to guess where he and his family might be found. Moreover, despite Mr. Clipper's rejection of herself, her anxiety for his family overwhelmed her.

Distracted by her own meandering thoughts, Elizabeth failed to notice the near silence of the others. Fitzwilliam Darcy, despite his great love for his sister felt too ashamed of himself to readily make conversation, while Georgiana was troubled by her own innate shyness and her fear of somehow disappointing her older brother.

Finally, the chambermaid noticed two pair of eyes begging for her assistance. Then she remembered her resolved to bring laughter to the young master. Nevertheless, she believed herself incapable of even feigning good humor. For a few moments, Elizabeth resented both the brother and sister; after all, she was only a maid and it should not be her responsibility to entertain them. However, her compassion overcame her frustration.

"Miss Darcy, perhaps you would like to show your brother some of your latest work. Master Fitzwilliam, do you feel able to accompany your sister to the schoolroom? Or shall I fetch some things to show you." At the mention of his visit the schoolroom, Fitzwilliam's eyes shone with terror, but he surprised Elizabeth by agreeing to the endeavor. Her heart filled with pride to witness the young man fight his fears.

"I will go to the schoolroom if you will accompany us."

"Yes, Lizzy please do!"

As they entered the main hall, Fitzwilliam offered an arm to each of the girls. Elizabeth easily deduced that the offer was intended for his own comfort. His fears might be more easily assuaged if he kept his little sister and his nursemaid both close at hand.

In the schoolroom, the trio found Miss Pennywick with an open book and a sketch pad. The governess quickly tried to hide the book as they entered. Her face initially displayed irritation; however, this emotion was quickly masked when the governess noted the gentleman's presence.

"Mr. Darcy, how lovely to see you! I have been so very concerned for your health," the lady sweetly intoned. Because of the young man's severe illness, Elizabeth supposed Miss Pennywick might be forgiven for neglecting her charge.

"Thank you, Miss -" Fitzwilliam paused awkwardly unable to remember the governess' name. Her warm expression disconcerted him, as he could not recall ever having engaged in a single conversation with her.

"Pennywick, sir."

Miss Pennywick then proceeded to boast of her charge's accomplishments, as she proudly displayed Georgiana's work. Elizabeth might have found the display heartwarming had the governess not seemed quite so disingenuous; instead, she found it nauseating.

While Miss Pennywick prattled, Elizabeth spied a pianoforte in the corner and wandered to it. She could not resist the feel of the smooth ivories. Seeing a fairly simple piece of music on the stand, she sat down on the bench and began to play.

A great deal of applause followed Elizabeth's short performance. Georgiana was practically jumping with her enthusiasm.

"I did not know you could play! How splendid. You play far better than I do."

"Not far better, my dear. I could not play anything much more difficult than this. So you see, you will soon surpass me."

"That is not my music, Lizzy. It must be Miss Pennywick's" Elizabeth turned to see an embarrassed expression on the governess' face.

"It is an old favorite of mine," Miss Pennywick interjected testily. "It brings me fond memories."

"I am sorry for playing your music without permission, ma'am," Elizabeth replied, though she felt that her offense should not have caused such irritation. Then, in order to flatter the young lady's vanity, Elizabeth suggested, "Perhaps you might play for us, Miss Pennywick. I am certain Master Fitzwilliam would enjoy your performance, which would certainly be superior to mine."

Elizabeth had expected Miss Pennywick to blush, but hastily comply. To her surprise, the governess answered, "No indeed. I am certain the gentleman would far prefer to hear his sister's performance." Elizabeth could not argue with this statement, for she supposed it was most likely accurate.

While Georgiana played, Elizabeth allowed herself to brood further about her discourse with Miss Davis, completely unaware that Fitzwilliam was watching her and attempting to discern the cause of her ill mood.

Later that evening, Elizabeth was pleased to learn that Fitzwilliam had resolved to take no further meals in his rooms but instead intended to dine in the schoolroom with his sister. Nevertheless, even this good news could not entirely restore her spirits. While the Master Fitzwilliam and Miss Georgiana dined upstairs, Elizabeth nibbled on her dinner alone in the kitchen. As usual, her duties to the young gentleman had kept her away during the time the other servants took their meal.

However, she had not been seated long when Parker settled himself beside her.

"I expected to see a smile bright enough to light the room on your face this evening, Eliza."

"Sorry for disappointing you," snapped Elizabeth sarcastically.

"I hope you are not regretting the young master's recovery. It would show a distressing lack of character on your part if you were lamenting the fact that the gentleman shall no longer require a nursemaid." Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"It had not occurred to me. I am, of course, pleased by Master Fitzwilliam's recovery." Parker was pleased to discover the inaccuracy of his supposition, but he would not be fully satisfied until he knew the cause of Eliza's distress.

"I hope you are not developing feelings for him?"

"Feelings? Of course I feel for him. Only a stone statue would not be moved to compassion by what the young man has suffered. Surely you do not think that a maid must be immune to the humanity of her employers." Parker spirits were further buoyed by Eliza's innocence. If she could not guess that he suspected her of romantic interest, then most likely, she harbored none.

"I meant improper feeling, my dear."

"Oh!" Elizabeth's eyes lit with astonishment, followed by amusement.

"Shall I try another guess?" Mr. Parker asked, teasingly. "I hope you are not pining for Mr. Smith?"

"Mr. Smith?" Elizabeth did not immediately recall the young man who had proposed to her not so long ago. When she realized to whom Parker referred, she blushed slightly and giggled.

"Not at all, I assure you."

"Some other romantic entanglement, then?"

"Can a young lady not have any emotions unrelated to potential romantic entanglements?" Elizabeth snapped testily. Then, Parker chuckled lightly, and she understood that Parker had not been serious.

"I did not mean to offend, Eliza. I am merely attempting to cheer you." Thus, Elizabeth was persuaded to tell her friend precisely why she was so distressed.

After hearing her concerns, Parker took one of her hands in his own and spoke gently. "I wish I could do something to ease your mind. I hope Miss Davis is able to provide you with more information to help you rediscover your remaining family." Elizabeth could tell he wished to say more but could not find the words, so she forced herself to smile and introduced a new subject of discourse.

That night thoughts churned through Elizabeth's mind as she lay awake. Nevertheless, she was stunned to see that it was nearly ten o'clock when she woke the next morning. She dressed herself hurriedly, but almost as soon as she exited her room, Mrs. Reynolds called to her.

"Eliza, Master Fitzwilliam wishes to speak with you in the Master's study." Elizabeth's heart filled with trepidation as she approached the appointed room. She wondered if she had slept too soundly the night before, and she hoped the young man was not angry that she had not come to calm him during the night.

Though she had an apology on her lips, Elizabeth was stunned to see that it would not be necessary. The young master appeared well-rested and content. He even smiled as he bade her enter.

"I daresay you must be pleased by my recovery." Elizabeth's brows furrowed. She was pleased by the gentleman's health, but his unusual statement provoked suspicion in her.

"I am sure the entire household is pleased. And your family even more so."

"Of course. I was merely thinking that you would be glad to sleep through the night again." Elizabeth smiled, feeling more at ease.

"I cannot deny it, sir."

"I wished to offer you a gift to thank you for services that went far beyond the duties specified in your contract."

"Thank you, sir, but that is not necessary," Elizabeth replied politely, privately hoping that Master Fitzwilliam would offer her a monetary reward.

"Oh, but I believe it is." As he spoke, Fitzwilliam handed Elizabeth a large parcel.

Elizabeth carefully untied the package, and then she removed the brown paper, and folded it. She did not examine the contents of her present until after the paper and string had been laid aside so that she might reuse them sometime. Then, she carefully examined the item on her lap.

The present was a wooden lap desk. The top of the desk could be removed, revealing a large compartment, containing all the supplies necessary for writing. Elizabeth ran her hands over each of the items, as though testing to see if they were real. When Elizabeth remained silent, Fitzwilliam began to wonder if he had erred in his selection.

"Why would you give me such a gift?" inquired a suspicious Elizabeth.

"Do you not like it? Parker thought this would be an ideal gift for you. In fact, he is the one who selected everything." Knowing that Parker approved of the master giving her such a present eased Elizabeth's mind. If Parker suspected the gentleman of any ill intentions, he would never have approved. Still, she did not feel confident in accepting the lovely gift.

"But this is a desk set fit for a lady, sir."

"And you are a lady. I have spoken not only with Parker, but also with Georgiana and with Mrs. Bristlethwaite. By piecing together the various stories you have shared, I feel I have a reasonable picture of your history. However, there are some gaps, and I hope you can help me fill the rest of them."

"Ask anything you wish, sir."

Thus, Fitzwilliam Darcy interrogated Elizabeth about all of the significant people and places in her life. The more he learned, the more he continued to feel that something was not quite right; nevertheless, he became increasingly convinced that she ought not be working as a maid.

Eventually, Elizabeth grew irritated by the questioning. "Are you almost through?" she demanded.

"Indeed, I am. However, I do wish to discuss one more concern."

"Yes, sir?"

"As you can see, I am no longer in need of a nursemaid." Elizabeth nodded.

"I will inform Mrs. Bristlethwaite, so that she may begin to assign me other duties," Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"Are you dismissing me? My contract lasts through Epiphany."

"No, Eliza, I am not dismissing you precisely, but I do not wish for you to continue working as a chambermaid." The young girl narrowed her eyes and glared at Master Fitzwilliam.

"And just what do you wish for me to do?"

"I am not precisely certain. I wish to give you the opportunity to return to your proper station in life."

"Excuse me?"

"I will have to consult with my father to determine the best course of action. In the meantime, I wish for you to attend lessons with Georgiana. I will have all of your things moved to the room beside hers. You will be treated as a ward of the family, instead of a servant."

"Thank you, Master Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth beamed.

"You are most welcome. Now, since today is half over, I will allow you to have the rest of the day free. Perhaps you would like to call on your friend, Miss Davis? I will have a carriage readied to take you to Lambton."

"A carriage? For me?" Fitzwilliam smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Yes, for you." Elizabeth then practically leapt from her seat, and scampered through the hall. Unfortunately, when she arrived in Lambton, she discovered that Miss Davis was out for the day. Nevertheless, Elizabeth did not feel that her time had been wasted, for she had greatly enjoyed the ride.

When she returned to the manor, Elizabeth had to be reminded that she was no longer a servant and should enter the house through the main hall. She did not rush to her new rooms, but slowly ambled there, enjoying the splendid views of the manor house. When she did arrive, she settled herself with her new lap desk and wondered to whom she should write. Finally, she set the desk aside without having written a jot.

Such behavior might seem odd for someone who wished to be reconnected with friends and family, but she could not help fearing rejection. Her Uncle Gardiner had rejected her, and Mr. Clipper had rejected her. She had written to Mrs. Bloom and received no response. _What if no one wanted her?_

Elizabeth might have given herself over to grief had Georgiana not coming bounding into her room.

"Lizzy! How perfectly lovely it shall be! We shall be almost like sisters. Brother says that I may ask you to call me Georgiana. Will you, please?"

"I would be happy to call you Georgiana."

"And you will eat all of your meals with me." Elizabeth had not considered this benefit of the new situation.

"And you must have a new wardrobe, appropriate for a gentleman's daughter."

"A new wardrobe?"

"Of course. It shall be splendid! I do not know if we will go to the dressmaker or if she will come here."

"I can make my own dresses. You do not need to pay someone."

"You can make your own dresses?" Georgiana enthusiastically inquired. "Will you teach me?"

"I would be happy to teach you. You know how to stitch already, so learning will not be a challenge."

"Then I can make new dresses for myself. Although I do not think I would like to give up visiting the dressmaker. Shopping is such splendid fun!"

"Oh, but you may shop just as much if you are making your own dresses, for you still must select all of the necessary items."

To Elizabeth's surprise, upon being informed of the girls' plans, the governess heartily approved. "You may devote as much time as you like to learning this new accomplishment Miss Georgiana this week. I shall use the extra time to prepare for your future lessons." The girls thanked her and immediately set to work.

For the next several days, Elizabeth and Georgiana spent nearly all of their waking hours together. Then, each night as she settled into the most comfortable bed she could recall, Elizabeth's whole heart was filled with gratitude.


	16. Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII

"I have received your summons, and come to throw myself at your mercy, Sister!" declared a grinning Fitzwilliam Darcy as he entered the music room waving a note from his sister.

"You must seat yourself, for Lizzy and I have prepared special entertainment for you," Georgiana cheerily replied.

"And what delight have you prepared?"

"A night of musical wonders." Fitzwilliam could not help smiling at his sister's enthusiasm. She seemed so much more vibrant since Eliza had joined her in the schoolroom.

"Then please, astonish me."

Fitzwilliam enjoyed the performance far more than he had expected he would. He decided then that he would rather listen to enthusiastic little girls who sometimes played wrong notes, but whose faces radiated joy, than to listen to ladies who played with soulless technical perfection.

When the girls completed their performance, Fitzwilliam applauded heartily. Then he inquired, teasingly, "What great entertainment shall you prepare next? Perhaps one of the bard's works?"

"Perhaps you shall entertain us?" Lizzy retorted and then blushed in embarrassment. Her status may have increased, but surely she ought not tease the gentleman. Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, found her suggestion appealing.

"If only Wickham were here, we might put on a splendid act for you."

Georgiana explained to Elizabeth, "Fitzwilliam and George used to make up the sweetest little plays to entertain me."

"But, Wickham is not here," Elizabeth thought Fitzwilliam sounded wistful.

"I would not be so sure of that," replied a voice from the doorway. Then the man in question sauntered into the room as though he had not a care in the world.

"What brings you here, Wickham?"

"I need your assistance, Fitz" Fitzwilliam looked at his old friend with sympathy. He accepted that Wickham bore no culpability in his attack, and though he felt an unexplained anxiety in the other man's presence, Fitzwilliam hoped that they could renew their friendship.

"How much do you need? It was wrong of my father to cut you off so."

"No, Darcy. Your father had no responsibility to provide for me. He gave me far more than would be expected of a godfather, and you and I both know how often I violated his expectations for good behavior. I did not come asking for money. Though I surely will not protest should you wish to give me some. I need your help in identifying the men who attacked you." Fitzwilliam's skin turned ashen.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You see I tracked them down by visiting the pawn shops in Cambridge and looking for your things."

"You did?" It astonished Fitzwilliam that such a simple measure could have been successful.

"I did. I first found the lad who had your gold watch." As he spoke, Wickham extracted the item from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Fitzwilliam, who smiled softly. Then Wickham held up a sketch. "Do you recognize this boy?"

Fitzwilliam closely examined the image, then shook his head. "I do not believe so. He does not seem familiar. If he was there that night, he was not a key player."

"That matches his own testimony quite well. This is Walter Simmons. He's the one who pawned your watch. I had a little trouble tracking him down, and even more trouble convincing him to speak. At first, he told me the watch had been a gift. In truth, it seems it was more of a bribe. The other fellows let this lad keep the watch, so long as he agreed to be quiet about what happened. I think they needn't have bothered, he was absolutely terrified of telling the truth."

"And yet he told you?" Skepticism was written across Fitzwilliam's face.

"I have my charms," Wickham answered with a smile. "I do feel a little guilty for abusing the poor boy's need for a kind ear. It seems Simmons, who swears he is nineteen though he does not look a day over sixteen, is an orphan with no family. He has been in the employ of a certain gentlemen for the last several years. Theirs was not the typical master-servant relationship; a peculiar friendship existed between them, and Simmons was enamored of his employer. I will not go into specifics here, but I believe you comprehend me." Fitzwilliam nodded, but did not speak.

"In any case, Simmons had gone out for a night on the town with his employer, who was accompanied by two other gentlemen and the local blacksmith. A strange collection of men, if you ask me. These were the men who attacked you. Simmons admitted that he ought to have sought help for you, if nothing else. Instead, it seems he watched in terror, and did nothing. However, after seeing what was done to you, the boy refused to go home with his employer, instead seeking employment in an inn. He named the other men involved in the attack. He also told me what truly happened." Wickham looked on Fitzwilliam with sympathetic eyes, but Fitzwilliam could not see this because he stared at his own feet.

"Three of the men were easily located, and you will not need to bring charges against them. They have been jailed for other crimes, and I suspect they are bound for the gallows."

"But the other man?" Fitzwilliam anxiously wondered.

"He has been arrested, but not yet tried, and we have not enough evidence to convict him. Simmons is terrified to test against because he believes, and not without just cause, that his own life is likely forfeit if he speaks the truth. Moreover, I believe he is reluctant to speak against the man who was his protector for several years. I told the authorities that you were in no shape to travel, but you are in much better condition than I anticipated. Your testimony could sink this man so that he could never hurt anyone else again."

"Show me the picture," Fitzwilliam weakly agreed. As soon as the sketch was laid before him, Fitzwilliam clenched the arms of his chair tightly, and his breathing quickened. He struggled to speak, but forced out the words.

"That is the man who spoke to me first and who struck me," gasped Fitzwilliam. Then he weakly murmured, "I do not believe I can testify about what happened to me."

"Darcy, you do not have to give specific details. If you are willing to testify that he struck you, we should be able to have him arrested for assault." Fitzwilliam began to rock back and forth slightly. Finally he stopped himself and looked at Wickham.

"I cannot."

"Of course, you can! You cannot let this vile excuse for a human being go free. If you do, then you are guilty of his crimes." Fitzwilliam made no reply, but stared at his feet.

Georgiana and Elizabeth, whose presence had been nearly forgot, held onto one another crying. Finally Elizabeth spoke.

"You would make him relive his pain? I think you are the monster!" Wickham stared wide-eyed at the bold young girl, suddenly feeling guilty for pressuring Fitzwilliam.

"No, Eliza," the young master interjected, "Wickham is right. I need to do this. But heaven help me, I do not think I can."

"Darcy, do you think that you could provide written testimony. I could return to Cambridge and submit your written testimony. If I explain that you remain unwell, I expect they will accept such witness." Fitzwilliam cried in hopeful relief. Elizabeth seated herself beside him and took his hand. Georgiana witnessed her friend's small act of kindness and assumed the same position on her brother's opposite side.

"I will sit beside you while you write, if you wish, Brother." Fitzwilliam did not reply except by squeezing her hand lightly.

"Good God! I had no intention of creating such turmoil. I had thought the news would bring Darcy joy, not sorrow. I hate to depart with Darcy in such a state, but I do not wish to be discovered here, since Mr. Darcy banished me from the manor. I persuaded one of the maids to let me inside, but if she learns I brought distress, she will not offer assistance again."

"I will write the testimony, and I will personally deliver it to the steward's cottage," Fitzwilliam declared.

Elizabeth admired Fitzwilliam's bravery then. Though she could not truly comprehend the source of his fear, Elizabeth knew that he had tried several times that week to step outside, but each time he had retreated in fear. However, she knew without a doubt that, having declared he would deliver the letter, Fitzwilliam would not allow his fears to stop him.

Georgiana must also have understood this, for she gazed at her brother adoringly and declared, "You are the most courageous man in the world." Her enthusiastic words simultaneously pleased and embarrassed Fitzwilliam. He was filled with a powerful desire to be the man his sister believed him to be. He smiled softly at her.

Wickham watched the tender scene for a moment, then turned to leave. Elizabeth wondered if the young man felt jealous of Georgiana's clear adoration of her older brother, or if he merely felt himself an intruder to a private moment. Nevertheless, Fitzwilliam rose and approached Wickham.

"Let me offer you some funds, since you are undertaking this mission on my behalf."

"I probably should refuse. I am only atoning for my own mistakes, after all. But you know me, Fitz; I cannot say no to your money."

The two men then departed the room, and to Elizabeth's surprise Georgiana sighed happily. "Is it not utterly romantic how Wickham is hunting the men who injured Fitzwilliam. He is such a hero."

"It is a good thing that he is doing," was all that Elizabeth could think to reply. "Since we have lost our audience, shall we return to the schoolroom and practice sewing more."

"Race me there?" Elizabeth nodded. Then the two girls darted through the hall, laughing as they went.

Upon entering the school room, Georgiana and Elizabeth were surprised to find the governess seated at the pianoforte, struggling over a piece of music. The sight might not have surprised Elizabeth, except that the song was one she already knew.

Elizabeth approached the instrument and bent low to whisper into the governess' ear, "Miss Pennywick, would you like help with the fingering?" The governess flushed with embarrassment.

"Please do not tell the Darcys! I beg you. They would put me out in the streets if they knew how lacking I am in accomplishments." Elizabeth swallowed hard, wondering where her loyalties ought to lie. She could not help having compassion on a young lady forced into a life of service, but she also could not betray the Darcys, particularly Georgiana, who had always been kind to her.

"Have you gained your employment under false pretenses?"

"Goodness no!" replied the governess, seeming shocked by the accusation. Elizabeth leveled a stern look at the young lady.

"Well, maybe."

"Explain yourself."

"Mr. Darcy hired me because of his friendship with my father. My father passed away so long ago that I cannot even remember him. Mother and I lived with my grandfather who was always very good to me, but he spoiled me terribly, and never required me to learn my lessons. I never thought I would need them. I am excellent at tatting and my penmanship is lovely, but beyond that I am hopeless."

"I assume your grandfather has passed on?"

"Indeed. My uncle inherited everything. I am sure grandfather believed my uncle would care for Mother and I, or else he would have done more for us. Mother is now working as a companion for an elderly lady, and she helped me to find this position, calling on Mr. Darcy's friendship for Father. I did not know until after the position was secured that she had exaggerated my accomplishments. And now I cannot let the Darcys know, or else I shall be fired."

"I suppose I should be angry with you, Miss Pennywick," remarked Georgiana, who had approached the other two with their knowledge, "but instead, I find I like you much better." Elizabeth, on the other hand, felt more uncertain. Georgiana then continued, "Elizabeth will help me study while you work on improving yourself, and the two of you can teach each other anything one of you knows that the other does not.

Elizabeth looked at her young friend doubtfully, still questioning Miss Pennywick's story. Nevertheless, she could not help feeling sympathy for Miss Pennywick, nor could she help comparing the governess's actions to her own exaggeration of her skills when she had first arrived at Matlock. Thus, despite her qualms, she quickly agreed to Georgiana's suggestion.

Thus, the next morning found Elizabeth teaching Georgiana how to sew a gown, while Miss Pennywick sat nearby, studying a French grammar book.

Into this idyllic scene burst a fiery redheaded whirwind.

"What the devil is going on?" Elizabeth looked up to see the lady she had known as Lady Constance Fitzwilliam storm into the room.

"Cousin Connie?" Georgiana murmured meekly. "Or am I to call you Lady Barkely now?"

Constance did not even bother to answer Georgiana before again demanding information.

"Lizzy and I are sewing a dress, and Miss Pennywick is preparing my French lesson," answered a confused Georgiana. Constance huffed in indignation. Then she flung a letter at Georgiana.

"Explain the meaning of this!"

 _My darling Constance,_

 _I hope you are settling well into your new married life. I cannot approve of your brother's scheming to help you marry against your father's wishes, but your mother assures me you are blissfully happy. I know your husband is a good man, but I wish you might have enjoyed your girlhood longer._

 _I am writing you to ask a favor. I assume you have heard that I am in Bath taking the waters. In truth, every time I try to drink that wretched stuff, I cast up my accounts. The doctor says I have cancer, but I am coming to believe he has diagnosed me incorrectly. Although I cannot keep my meals down, I otherwise feel quite well. Indeed, I have taken to dumping my glasses of water into the houseplants._

 _I cannot let Mr. Darcy know that it is not the waters which have been returning me to health. We cannot dare return to Pemberley, or else the quack of a physician will return with us and try to treat Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam does not need that._

 _What my son does need, according to Mrs. Bristlethwaite, is the gentle companionship of a female relative. She has particularly requested your presence at Fitzwilliam's bedside. I assume she requested you because you are closest. Thus, I have also written to your mother and to Catherine. I know it will be difficult for you to be away from your husband for so long. However, it is still my hope that you will come and help tend Fitzwilliam until one of my sisters arrives._

 _Your loving Aunt,_

 _Anne Darcy_

"I have not received word from any of my relations except Richard in weeks. Then, I receive this missive, which makes it seem as though your brother is dying. So, I leave Lord Barkely to rush here as swiftly as possible only to be told that Fitzwilliam cannot see me now because he is busy with his tailor."

Georgiana began to cry, and she attempted to explain, but could not speak coherently. Finally, Elizabeth took pity on the girl and explained Master Fitzwilliam's condition as well as she could.

As she concluded her tale, Elizabeth added, "Because his attackers were so brutal, the young master becomes fearful in the presence of men. I was not aware the tailor had been called, and I am surprised Parker was able to persuade Master Fitzwilliam of the necessity. I consider that a major step in the right direction."

Rather than interrogate the speaker about the story she had just shared, the young countess merely blurted out, "Eliza? Why are you here? And Parker is here, too? Did the two of you run away to get married like James thought?"

Georgiana began giggling, then interjected. "Lizzy is much too young to get married! Besides she is a gentleman's daughter, and therefore, she can marry someone much better than a valet!"

Constance quietly examined Elizabeth and shook her head in confusion, "I sense there is a great deal more to this story that I do not understand."

Elizabeth replied to Constance's unspoken question by again divulging her own history. Constance listened in thoughtful astonishment.

"But you were always so cheerful, Eliza! How could you have such a positive attitude after my mother kidnapped you and forced you to become a scullery maid?"

"Kidnapped? I would not call it kidnapping. Mr. Clipper sent me away with her, I am sure."

"No, Eliza, I do not believe so. I know from my brother James that Mr. Clipper visited Matlock looking for a young girl he called Lizzy. It must have been you. He was accompanied by," Constance paused a moment, "Well, it was some relation of yours I think. James was rather distressed that you had gone. I know he offered to help them search for you, only I do not know if he knew it was you. Darcy was still at Matlock then, he might remember."

"Mr. Clipper was looking for me?" sniffled Elizabeth.

"Indeed he was! He claimed that he had visited multiple times and repeatedly been denied entrance. He told James that my mother had insisted that he had no legal right to intervene because he was not your legal guardian. The man with him must have been your legal guardian, then."

"My uncle, maybe?" Elizabeth replied in confusion.

"I never did hear how the matter turned out, but I assumed it had been resolved. Obviously, I now know that it was not. My goodness, how can you stand the sight of me?"

"You were never cruel to me, my lady."

"But I was not kind either?"

"A maid quickly learns not to expect kindness."

A deeper voice unexpectedly replied, "I hope that comment is not a reflection of my behavior toward you." The young ladies all turned to view Fitzwilliam Darcy's entrance into the room.

"Of course not, Master Fitzwilliam," answered a rosy-cheeked Elizabeth.

Constance then explained the essence of the conversation to her cousin. Fitzwilliam grew increasingly pensive as he listened.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember Mr. Clipper visiting. I even more particularly remember the man whom he accompanied. I could scarcely forget him after he called me a scullion!" Elizabeth laughed lightly.

"Who was he?"

"Eliza, I apologize, I have been through a great deal since that time, and I am afraid my memory may be deceiving me. I did not in anyway connect that encounter with you. I think the gentleman said he was looking for…" Fitzwilliam stopped himself, then continued, "that he was your… Oh, this cannot be correct."

"Will you not tell me, sir?"

"I think I had best investigate the matter further, lest I say something which would cause you distress."

Elizabeth looked at the young master with confusion. His strange manner puzzled her, and she disliked not being fully informed regarding matters which concerned herself. Nevertheless, she did not press him for more information.

Later that evening, when Fitzwilliam announced that he would be traveling to London the day after Christmas, Elizabeth was astonished, but she did not connect his plans with her own situation.

Lady Barkely, upon hearing her cousin's announcement, declared that if Fitzwilliam was well enough to travel, he clearly did not require her presence. Thus, she would return to her husband the following morning. However, Georgiana and Fitzwilliam together persuaded her to remain another day. She might have agreed to tarry longer if Christmas had not been so quickly approaching.

Constance spent that one day in the company of Georgiana and Elizabeth, who were sufficiently unguarded in her presence for her to become suspicious of the governess. Indeed, she resolved to write to her Aunt Darcy regarding the matter; however, when her uncle arrived home late that afternoon, she naturally decided to address him instead.

George Darcy's presence was eagerly welcomed by his daughter, who jumped to her feet and rushed toward him the moment he arrived. Mr. Darcy was thoroughly delighted by Georgiana's warm greeting. Furthermore, he was pleased to learn that his son was much recovered. Nevertheless, he could not be pleased by the cold manner in which Fitzwilliam greeted him.

Although unnoticed by the master of the house, Elizabeth was present for his reunion with his children. Because of her dislike of George Darcy, she did not spend much energy pondering his children's attitudes toward him.

Indeed, after observing the greetings, Elizabeth quietly slipped away to leave the family to their own reunion. She saw none of them until Georgiana joined her that afternoon for dinner. At that time, Elizabeth learned that the Countess of Matlock had arrived at Pemberley intent on nursing her nephew back to health. Elizabeth naturally had no desire to encounter Lady Matlock, and so made every attempt to avoid her. Aside from a brief encounter when Elizabeth joined the family to wish Constance farewell the following morning, she mostly successful.

The few remaining days before Christmas, Elizabeth spent in the company of Miss Pennywick. Georgiana had been granted a holiday from her studies, and Elizabeth was determined to use the time to help the governess fill the gaps in her education. In some cases, Elizabeth had less knowledge than Miss Pennywick, but she still enjoyed learning alongside her.

Elizabeth saw Georgiana each day at dinnertime, until Christmas Eve, when the younger girl had been asked to remain with her family. Georgiana's absence for that meal caused Elizabeth to wonder about her own position with the family. Were it not for Miss Pennywick's presence, she would likely have given herself entirely over to maudlin reflections. Instead she convinced herself that being with the governess was better than dining with Mr. Darcy and Lady Matlock.

Georgiana affirmed her expectations when she visited Elizabeth's chamber that afternoon.

"It was beyond dreadful, Lizzy. Lady Catherine De Bourgh is here now and she spent the entire first course rebuking all of us for failing to write to her of my brother's condition. Then she spent the next course interrogating Fitzwilliam about the attack. He was white as a sheet, and for a moment I thought he was going to hide under the table. He finally announced that he was unwell and needed to retire. I wanted to chase after him, but of course I could not. Instead, I had to sit and listen to Lady Catherine's tirade."

"Is he in his chambers now?"

"He is. I know Father would not approve, but I have half a mind to go to him." Georgiana looked pleadingly at Elizabeth.

"I cannot advise you to disobey your father, Georgie, but you have to do what you think is best. I am going to write a short note of encouragement for Master Fitzwilliam."

"I am going to visit my brother!" Elizabeth smiled slightly, feeling that Georgiana had made a good decision.

Once Georgiana had departed, Elizabeth retrieved her lap desk and stationery and began a letter. Initially, she struggled to find words, but once she began to write, they flowed easily from her pen.

 _Dear Sir,_

 _I cannot truly understand what you have faced, and I do not want for my words to seem as though I am belittling your pain. But I do not want you to suffer. I want you to remember that you were made in the image of God and nothing anyone says or does can change that. When people speak carelessly or thoughtlessly just remember that. Nothing that has happened to you or will happen to you can change your value as a person._

 _Your Friend,_

 _Elizabeth Bennet_

The words were simple, but they would be cherished by their recipient. Though Elizabeth would not know it for many years, Fitzwilliam would keep that small note always in his jacket pocket by day and on his bedside table by night.

Elizabeth did not once consider the impropriety of writing a letter to Master Fitzwilliam. After all, she had spent many hours at his bedside, and after such a degree of intimacy writing a short could not seem wrong. Moreover, because there was no romantic intention behind her note, it did not occur to Elizabeth that an observer might infer one from her behavior.

Thus, the morning after Christmas, when Elizabeth was called into George Darcy's study, she did not once suppose the master's ire might have been provoked by her writing a short note. Instead, she naturally assumed he had learned of her involvement in Miss Pennywick's deception, and thus she had few words to defend herself.

"Eliza, I am most disappointed in you. My housekeeper has been singing your praises, and my children seem to believe you are a saint, but I have learned that you have been engaged in deceitful and grasping behavior. I am shocked by your ingratitude."

"Am I dismissed, sir?" While such a circumstance would distress Elizabeth, she did not worry much, as she assumed she could return to the Brooks farm.

"My son believes that because of your background, you should be treated as a young lady of gentle birth. However, I cannot allow you to remain in my home. I spoke to my sisters-in-law of your situation." Elizabeth gasped, and decided that she would not allow herself to be returned to Lady Matlock's power. However, she was entirely unprepared for Mr. Darcy's next words. "You will leave this morning with Lady Catherine DeBourgh. You will travel with her to Kent where you will become a companion to her daughter, Anne. I wash my hands of you now."

"May I take my belongings? May I bid Georgiana farewell?"

"Of course you may keep your possessions. And yes, you may say good-bye to my daughter. I would rather you were never in her presence again, but for her sake I will allow a brief conversation."

Thus, after some hurried packing and a few tearful good-byes, Elizabeth found her life once again uprooted. She regretted being unable to speak to Mr. Parker or Master Fitzwilliam, since they had already departed for London, but Georgiana assured her that she would pass her regards to both men.


	17. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: I apologize for the length of time since my previous update. Life has been crazy here, but things have settled down now. I have the next chapter almost completely written, and I expect to post it tomorrow. The chapter after this will give you a great many answers you have been waiting for a long time to learn.**

Elizabeth had not been in Lady Catherine's carriage long before discovering that she would not be required to speak much. This suited the young girl well, for she was in no mood to engage in idle chatter. Nevertheless, a good many of Lady Catherine's beliefs and assumptions startled Elizabeth, as did the great lady's manner toward herself.

"Every young woman in our society is in a precarious position," began Lady Catherine, "particularly one who, through no fault of her own, has lost the protection which a family would be expected to provide." Elizabeth nodded, agreeing completely.

"A young woman who seeks to place herself in a better position ought to be commended." Elizabeth again nodded, "Even if she is forced to bend the basic rules of propriety, I find I cannot condemn her." Elizabeth assumed Lady Catherine spoke of Miss Pennywick's deception. She could not agree that such action could be fairly called bending propriety, but because Lady Catherine was not condemning her own complicity, Elizabeth felt no need to contradict her.

Over time Lady Catherine began to expound upon women who engaged themselves as men's mistresses. Elizabeth was shocked to hear anyone speak so openly about scandalous behavior, and she blushed brightly in embarrassment. Moreover, she could not see how Miss Pennywick's act of exaggerating her accomplishments or her own act of helping the governess perpetrate a deception against her master could be rightly compared to a woman who engaged in wanton or licentious behavior. Nevertheless, she did not dare to contradict Lady Catherine.

Eventually, Lady Catherine grew tired of her expositions and instead began to interrogate Elizabeth about herself. Elizabeth had already answered the same questions multiple times recently, but she found that every repetition of her history only made her more confused. However, Lady Catherine offered little time for reflection, although she did nod approvingly as Elizabeth spoke.

"Your history tells me that I have selected well, young lady. Your bloodline and breeding seem faultless, and it seems that that this tradesmen who raised you has done well by you. You will do, my dear, you will do."

Elizabeth sighed in relief when the questions finally ended. Given how rigid Lady Catherine's expectations were, Elizabeth could not comprehend why the lady had offered her a position without so much as an interview. She could only assume that Lady Catherine hired her as a favor to her brother-in-law. Perhaps if Lady Catherine had been displeased by the interview, Elizabeth's employment might have been short-lived indeed.

Once her interview of Elizabeth was completed, Lady Catherine commenced a speech about the grandeur of Rosings Park and then supplied a detailed description of its running. On the one hand, Elizabeth was impressed by the well-oiled machine Lady Catherine described in which each servant had explicit instructions regarding his duties and followed them precisely. On the other, she was immensely grateful not to be a scullery maid serving under such a taskmistress. She particularly balked when told that scullery maids were expected to bathe every fourth day in that evening's dishwater after the dishes were washed. Elizabeth wondered if a maid would be allowed to excuse herself from this requirement if the dinner had left behind particularly disgusting residue. However, when Lady Catherine proceeded to explain that the housekeeper inspected all of the female servants daily to ensure their compliance with her requirements, she assumed this was not an option.

When Elizabeth arrived at Rosings Park, three days after leaving Pemberley, she learned that it did not run half as smoothly as Lady Catherine had claimed. Comparing the actual picture of Rosings to the picture its mistress had painted particularly amused Elizabeth. For instance, while in the carriage Elizabeth had been told that all of the servants at Rosings attended morning prayers daily, the reality proved to be quite different. Her first morning at Rosings, Elizabeth dressed herself quickly, and after asking directions from a maid, she scurried toward the chapel. She was stunned to find the room deserted save for two gentleman.

"You must be my daughter's new companion. I am sorry I was unable to greet you last night. I hope you have settled well." Elizabeth stared in astonishment. She tried to recall if Lady Catherine had ever mentioned her husband. She had somehow been under the impression that the Lady was widowed.

"I am Elizabeth Bennet. Thank you for offering me a position in your home," Elizabeth then realized she did not know how to address the gentleman. Deciding it was better to err on the side of honoring the man too much, she settled for adding, "my lord."

The master of Rosings chuckled, "I am merely a knight. You may address me as Sir Lewis. Or simply, Sir. Or, because my wife has informed me you are to be treated as one of the family, you may call me Uncle."

"Uncle?"

"If it pleases you. But do not feel any obligation to profess a fondness you do not feel. My wife will expect it, but I do not."

"Lady Catherine would like me to call her aunt?" gasped Elizabeth, crinkling her nose. Thankfully, Sir Lewis was not offended.

"I do not believe so. But she desires for you to become her daughter's dearest friend, or at the very least, to convince the world that you and Anne are as dear as sisters."

"Well, she is paying me to be Miss De Bourgh's friend. So I suppose that is logical."

"Hopefully, you will discover that it is not such a chore to befriend Anne. In the meantime, let me introduce you to our curate, Mr. Flopper, so that he may begin prayers."

Elizabeth found herself pleased by Mr. Flopper, an unassuming young man who spoke with great feeling. She had expected his prayers to be as tedious as ministerial prayers often are, but although she did not know the people for whom Mr. Flopper interceded, she found herself moved to concern on their behalf. In the course of his prayer, the curate mentioned every single individual under the purview of Rosings park, both servant and tenant; he brought the needs of each before God with such genuine concern that Elizabeth could not doubt he viewed each one as a dear friend. She even thought that something deeper than friendship might be lurking in the man's heart when he mentioned Miss De Bourgh.

When the prayers were over, Elizabeth noticed that three others had quietly seated themselves in the rear of the chapel. When she questioned Sir Lewis about the mandatory attendance, he chuckled.

"I do not believe it is right to force people to pray, child. If you do not wish to join us, feel free to plan otherwise. Lady Catherine will never know, she herself has not attended morning prayers in more than a decade." Elizabeth, however, resolved never to miss a morning.

Sir Lewis then volunteered to introduce Elizabeth to the estate. After being assured that Miss De Bourgh never woke much before noon, she heartily agreed.

On the tour, Elizabeth discovered that Lady Catherine's descriptions of the operations of Rosings Park were almost entirely inaccurate. Apparently, despite giving far more explicit directions to her servants than Lady Matlock had ever done, Lady Catherine scarcely exerted herself to ensure that her orders were being carried out. As long as her meals were prepared to her liking, her gowns were satisfactorily pressed and brushed, and the rooms bore no visible dust, the lady was satisfied and saw no need to interact with her employees beyond issuing orders.

"Miss Bennet, I pray you do not inform my wife that her orders are not being followed," Sir Lewis implored Elizabeth as they completed a tour of the manor. As he said this, the gentleman extracted two biscuits from his pocket and handed one to her. Elizabeth accepted the treat with a grin; she had pretended not to notice the master sneaking the treats as they walked through the kitchen, but her stomach had growled loudly.

"Then I am not the only one who objects to breakfasting past noon."

"Of course not, child. My wife believes that it is a sign of good breeding to sleep late and breakfast at midday, but I was not made for such a schedule. Still, that is not the only secret I would have you keep. For the sake of household peace, I pray you would let me manage the servants as I see fit. Some of Lady Catherine's demands are absurd. For instance, there is no need for every room to be dusted every day." Elizabeth nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly with Sir Lewis's beliefs about Lady Catherine's regulations; nevertheless, she could not approve of his approach. Should not the master of the estate rebuke his wife privately and insist that she follow his policies rather than undermining her authority with the servants?

Because of his backward manner of managing the manor, Elizabeth lost a little of the respect she might otherwise have held for her new master. Indeed, when Lady Catherine later described Sir Lewis as weak-willed, she silently concurred.

As Elizabeth would soon discover, Lady Catherine did not hesitate to criticize her husband, both behind his back and to his face. She demeaned the man at every opportunity, calling him a fool, weakling, coward, and names far worse which Elizabeth would never dare repeat. Meanwhile, Sir Lewis showed no reaction. He never rebuked his wife, nor did he publicly contradict her instructions.

Over the next several weeks it became clear to Elizabeth that Lady Catherine did not know her husband at all. After attending morning prayers each day, he would tour his estate and visit tenants, making plans for the spring plantings. Then, he would retire to his study to compose letters of business, directly overseeing all of his investments. By the time Lady Catherine arose, Sir Lewis had already completed most of his day's work. Thus, when she saw her husband relaxing in his library, calling upon his neighbors, or engaging the curate in a game of backgammon, she concluded that this was all that occupied his time.

Each night when Sir Lewis would retire at an hour his wife considered early, Lady Catherine would remark upon his slothfulness, and he would not reply. On a few occasions, Elizabeth even supposed that the lady was taking jabs at her husband's honor; insinuating that he expected illicit entertainment once he retreated to his bedchamber.

Although Elizabeth also rose early, she never dared to retire before Miss Anne DeBourgh, for she feared Lady Catherine's wrath. Thankfully, her charge seemed to need a great deal of rest; hence, Elizabeth was able to find ample time for slumber.

Elizabeth never quite knew what to think of Anne De Bourgh. From her pale countenance, Elizabeth could tell that Anne was a sickly creature. Moreover, Lady Catherine took great pride in her daughter's delicate constitution. Furthermore, the young lady did not seem to take pleasure in anything. Elizabeth surpassed Miss De Bourgh in every reasonable measure of accomplishment, and the young lady did not seem to be at all bothered by her own failings.

At first, Elizabeth wondered if Anne was like her cousin Constance, who was remarkably intelligent, but whose interests society would consider decidedly unfeminine. However, Miss De Bourgh showed no interest in astronomy, physics or mathematics. She did not care to discuss current events or history. Indeed, Elizabeth did not think Anne De Bourgh cared to discuss anything at all. Even the completely uneducated ladies Elizabeth had known in the past had shown an interest in their neighbors' concerns, but Anne De Bourgh displayed no excitement when she learned of weddings, births, and deaths. Indeed, even the news that a daughter of the neighboring estate had run off with a footman sparked no further inquiries from the heiress apparent of Rosings Park.

Only a few days after her arrival, Elizabeth found herself discussing Miss De Bourgh with the governess Mrs. Jenkinson.

"I do not mean to pry, Mrs. Jenkinson, but I find myself at a loss as to how I am to fulfill my duties. Lady Catherine wishes me to become Miss De Bourgh's dearest friend, but I do not know how to befriend her. Is there anything she likes."

"Aye, my dear girl loves sunshine and posies. In the springtime, she likes to sit in the garden or ride in her phaeton. And she loves to watch the birds."

"Could we place a bird feeder outside her window? And maybe bring a flowering plant or two into her room?"

"I had never thought of the bird feeder. She might enjoy that. Lady Catherine refused to bring any houseplants into Miss De Bourgh's room when I asked before."

"Sir Lewis would not object," Elizabeth replied.

"I feel sorry for the master," Mrs. Jenkinson began, but then stopped herself. "I ought say no more. I will speak of the young miss as it is your job to befriend her and mine to teach her, so that cannot be gossip."

"Do you feel as though you are accomplishing anything?"

"No," Mrs. Jenkinson. "I have often felt my education wasted on my charge. I do care deeply for the child. I have been her governess for so long. I suppose I ought to be glad to have a more eager pupil in you." Elizabeth smiled.

"You remind me that we are wasting time we could be learning. Will you help me with the pianoforte now?"

As Mrs. Jenkinson helped Elizabeth tap out a lively air, both failed to notice Miss De Bourgh bobbing her head in time with the music. Neither did they the notice the slightly wistful expression she bore as she once again refused a lesson for herself.

Three days later, a carpenter arrived who constructed a small wooden box immediately outside Miss De Bourgh's chamber window and filled it with seed. Miss De Bourgh paid no attention to the man or the object of his labor. Nevertheless, had Elizabeth been present when the first sparrow landed in that box, she would have witnessed a wide smile brightening Anne De Bourgh's countenance.

Later that afternoon, when Elizabeth entered Miss De Bourgh's room, she found the young lady sitting on the floor weeping, surrounded by hundreds of torn papers.

"What has happened?" exclaimed an astonished Elizabeth.

"I cannot draw," replied Miss DeBourgh as though such an answer explained everything. Elizabeth then set to work collecting all the papers, inwardly chastising Anne as she did. She found such wastefulness disgraceful.

When she looked back upon that incident, Elizabeth would wish she had said more to encourage Anne to try again, or even to ask for help. Still, at that moment, Elizabeth had no interest in helping Miss DeBourgh. She had grown convinced that the girl was not worth her time, and had completely despaired of her assigned task of becoming Miss DeBourgh's friend. Her continued actions on Miss DeBourgh's behalf were motivated by necessity; she did not forsake attempting to be friendly, but only because she was paid to do so.

After leaving Anne's chambers, Elizabeth mumbled to herself about the spoiled young lady who wasted the privilege of having paper and writing implements readily available. Then, as though to prove to herself that she was the superior person, Elizabeth wrote a dozen missives and placed in the outgoing mail tray.

Elizabeth had composed hundreds of letters during her time at Rosings. Lady Catherine had instructed her to write as often as she liked to whomever she wished, and Elizabeth had not once doubted her sincerity. Even after several weeks of writing without receiving a single response, Elizabeth did not grow despondent.

Nevertheless, as months passed and Elizabeth received not a single piece of correspondence, she could not help wondering what was amiss. Moreover, as she became more acquainted with Lady Catherine, she found herself suspecting the lady's benevolent offer. Still, she did not know how to address the matter without offending her mistress.

Lady Catherine treated Elizabeth with kindness, even favoring the companion over her own daughter, but she demeaned nearly everyone else. Furthermore, Lady Catherine continually preached the need for compassion and forgiveness toward fallen women and those engaged in immoral relationships, but she failed to show compassion for any other offense. The smallest errors in judgment earned the great lady's ire.

One Sunday morning after Lady Catherine expressed hearty approval for the vicar's sermon which proclaimed "There is no improper love!" Elizabeth resolved to approach Mr. Flopper to inquire about Lady Catherine's confusing sentiments.

"How may I help you, Miss Bennet?" the gentleman inquired, seeming almost embarrassed by her approach. "Did I tell you how much Mrs. Miller appreciated the dress you made for her new little one? She has promised the child shall wear it for his christening." Elizabeth smiled brightly. She had enjoyed making the gown in question, and taken even greater pleasure in seeing the tenant woman's joy in receiving it.

"Thank you, sir. I am glad to hear it, but that is not what I wished to speak of? I have a question regarding yesterday's sermon."

"A fine message, indeed. I believe our world would be a much better place if all of us took it to heart." Mr. Flopper's endorsement of the message startled Elizabeth.

"Did you not think it was slightly heretical?"

"Goodness, no! Christ commanded us to love everyone, did he not?"

"But -"

"Miss Bennet, I am sure I could find a hundred passages of scripture favoring love, but not a single verse condemning it."

"What about a man who loves a woman to whom he is not married?" The curate looked surprised at the question, but after a thoughtful moment he replied.

"I assume you are speaking of a situation in which he cannot marry the lady?" Elizabeth nodded. "If he truly loves her there is no harm it."

The wide-eyed young girl looked at the minister in alarm. "Then you would not condemn a man who took a mistress?" Mr. Flopper could not help laughing at the expression of her countenance, causing Elizabeth to grow angry.

Before she could argue against his supposed position, Mr. Flopper corrected her misunderstanding. "No my dear, I could never condone such behavior. I believe you are confusing love and lust. A man who truly loves a woman will desire what is best for her above what he desires for himself. He would not wish for her to compromise her morals, nor would he wish for her to suffer the fate of a fallen woman. In most cases a man who believes himself in love with a woman whom he cannot wed ought to distance himself from her; after all, he may find himself tempted to act immorally unless his self-control is superb. However, it is not his love for the woman which hinders him, but his lust for her. Indeed, if he truly loves her, if he values her above himself, it will protect him from sin."

"I do not think that is Lady Catherine's view of the matter."

"I do not think you should look to Lady Catherine for spiritual guidance, Miss Bennet. You are an extraordinary young woman. Has some young man been importuning you?"

"No sir."

"Good. I think you are right to wonder at Lady Catherine's treatment of yourself." Elizabeth looked at the gentleman, curiously.

"Why so?"

"You must have noticed that she treats you differently than everyone else? I do not know her motivation, but it cannot be benevolet. I worry for you."

"You worry for me?" sputtered the now perplexed Elizabeth.

"Indeed I do! Your words this morning confirm my suspicions that all is not as it ought to be. I had not meant to speak so soon, but now I think I must, my dear." Elizabeth stared at Mr. Flopper in puzzlement; this was the second time he had called her "my dear."

"Pardon me?"

"You are a fine young lady, Miss Bennet, but it almost seems that Lady Catherine is grooming you to become a gentleman's mistress. I know you have limited options and few friends apart from Rosings. I fear you might be tempted into some illicit lifestyle."

"Mr. Flopper, that is the most insulting thing I have ever heard!"

"I meant no insult. Please do not allow yourself to be talked into a life of sin. I cannot grant you the life of ease you deserve as a gentleman's daughter. But I could protect you, and we could be happy." If Elizabeth had not already fairly well sketched the curate's character, his words would have mightily confused her.

"Is this a proposal?"

"Yes." Elizabeth supposed she should be flattered by the offer, despite how oddly it was given. Mr. Flopper nodded.

"I thank you for the honor of your offer. However, I am far too young to consider matrimony. Moreover, you need not fear that I will succumb to the temptation of an improper offer. If I could refuse such from a viscount in whose household I was employed, when I had nowhere to go and not a penny to my name, there is no reason to believe I will be tempted." Mr. Flopper sighed.

"I can tell I have offended you, Miss Bennet. That was not my intention."

"I suppose it was not."

"Still, if I may ever be of service to you, let me know."

Elizabeth suddenly snapped, "That is what every one says! But then they cannot even be bothered to write a line or two in response to my heartfelt letters! People like to claim they are my friends, that I can depend on them, but the moment I am out of sight they forget that I ever existed!" Elizabeth was immediately abashed for having shouted at the man whose proposal she had just rejected. He had owed her nothing, and she had abused him fearfully. Still, he did not appear angry.

"Do you mean to say that you have been writing to friends and not received any response?" Elizabeth nodded.

"I believe Lady Catherine may be withholding your correspondence in order make you more vulnerable." Elizabeth looked doubtfully at the curate, who then took her hand and begged that he be allowed to help. She shook off his hand and ran from the room in tears, rushing toward the master's study.

As she neared the study, Elizabeth heard raised voices from within.

"And I am told that you spent all of yesterday morning in company with Miss Bennet!"

"What is that to you, wife? She is a fine young girl. I spend many of my mornings with her."

"You are to stay away from her! She is for Darcy! Choose some other whore for yourself."

"Watch your language, Catherine! Unlike yourself she is an upstanding young lady."

"She is very good at appearing that way, which is one of the reasons I have selected her for Darcy."

"What should our brother want with her?"

"Not our brother, our nephew!"

"Have I not heard you say for years that he is to marry your daughter?"

"Of course! He must marry Anne. But she cannot bear him his heirs. Miss Bennet shall continue on as her companion, and she will become Darcy's mistress and mother of his sons."

"And why would Miss Bennet agree to such a scheme?"

"She was already attempting to seduce him. His father told me that he feared his son was already attached to her. That is why he sent the girl away."

"I do not believe it for an instant, my dear."

"You shall see!" Elizabeth scurried away, deciding that rather than address the matter of her letters with Sir Lewis, she ought to be packing a bag.

Elizabeth decided only to take the items she had brought from Pemberley and the small amount of money she had saved. However, she did leave the lap desk from Fitzwilliam behind, both because it would be awkward to carry while she traveled, and because Lady Catherine's words had made her suspicious of the giver's motives.

After gathering all of her possessions, Elizabeth slipped out of her room through the servant's passage.

Those who knew Elizabeth well might have been astounded that such a clever young lady would be so foolhardy as to leave abruptly with no plan and no destination. Nevertheless, even the most intelligent girl of fourteen must be expected to occasionally act without forethought, particularly when moved by emotional turmoil.

Only after walking for nearly two miles did Elizabeth begin to consider the need to determine her destination. If Lady Catherine had been interfering with the post, as Elizabeth now believed with certainty, then Elizabeth had no reason to suppose that those who had called themselves her friends would not offer her shelter and support. Still, Elizabeth did not know whom to trust, and most of those from whom she might seek help were too far to reach in a day.

Once she understood the difficulty of the situation, Elizabeth began to wonder if she should return to Rosings. However, she felt confident that she had been walking long enough that Lady Catherine must have realized her absence. Thus, she could expect to be faced with the lady's wrath when she returned home.

Unsure of how to proceed, Elizabeth stepped off the road and seated herself on the stone wall which ran alongside the road. Then she allowed her emotions to overrule her. As she sat bawling, she did not notice the approach of a horse and rider, nor did she notice when the animal stopped immediately in front of her and its rider dismounted.

"Miss, are you in need of assistance?" Queried the aforementioned rider, startling Elizabeth from her tears.

As she raised her head, Elizabeth was astonished to recognize the gentleman standing before her.

"Where have you been? We have been looking everywhere for you?" The gentleman demanded. His tone simultaneous conveyed worry and frustration.


	18. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Make sure you don't miss the chapter I posted yesterday before reading this one.**

A startled Elizabeth looked into the eyes of Fitzwilliam Darcy, wondering why they brimmed with so much emotion. She did not believe that he could possibly have so much concern on her account. Then she recalled Lady Catherine's terrible plan, and wondered if he had some part in it.

Elizabeth trembled as she spoke, "Sir, you cannot make me return to Rosings, and no matter how low my circumstances may become, I will not be your mistress."

"What a preposterous notion? Where on earth did you come by it?" Fitzwilliam retorted.

"I overheard Lady Catherine delineate her plan. You are to marry Anne, and I am to be your mistress. But I will not play my part in her plan."

"Wait a moment… Did you just imply that you have come straight from Rosings?"

"Indeed, I have. However, that should not surprise you, as your father arranged for my position as Miss deBourgh's companion."

"But did you not go to friends in Derby?"

"No!" Exclaimed a confused Elizabeth. "I left Pemberley with Lady Catherine and have been living at Rosings ever since."

"When I returned to Pemberley to find you absent, my father at first refused to tell me anything. I finally convinced him to reveal your whereabouts. He informed me you had take the position as my cousin's companion. He then wrote to Lady Catherine regarding you. She replied that only a few miles from Pemberley, you became angry with her and had insisted on being left with some friends in Derby. Your family have been scouring the entire city of Derby ever since. I was just now on my way to speak with my aunt in hopes that she would reveal more."

"But it has been months!"

"I am sorry, Miss Bennet. I should have come sooner. I wrote to my aunt multiple times and received no reply. I did not before feel myself capable of making the trip. It was not until your relatives informed me they had traveled to Rosings and had been refused an audience with Lady Catherine that I decided to come myself."

"My relatives? Do you mean the Clippers?"

"No, I mean the Bennets. And the Gardiners?"

"Oh? Who exactly?"

"If you will travel with me now, I will take you to London, and we might have dinner at your Uncle's house tonight." Fitzwilliam held out a hand to help Elizabeth from her perch on the fence post, but she looked at him warily and jumped down without accepting.

"I cannot travel alone with you. It would not be proper." Fitzwilliam looked at the girl who had spent so many hours by his bedside, and realized that she was correct. The proprieties ought to be observed.

"Would it be more proper to leave you here beside the road?" Elizabeth smiled and shook her head.

"Even if it were I would not do it. Come let us walk into the nearest village, Parker is traveling behind me in my carriage. Once he arrives, you may travel back to London in the carriage, while I ride alongside."

Elizabeth agreed, and even accepted Fitzwilliam's proffered arm.

"Why do you think my family would welcome me, since they have made no effort to reach me these many years?"

"Oh, that is where you are entirely wrong." Observing Elizabeth's disbelief, Fitzwilliam continued, "When you told me your history, I found it puzzling. Then when my cousin Constance visited Pemberley, she caused me to recall an incident in which Mr. Clipper and another gentleman had arrived at Matlock looking for a servant girl named Lizzy. I did not recall the particulars of the visit, but it seemed to me that the man with Clipper had been looking for his daughter. Armed with the name and address of the Mr. Gardiner who was married to Miss Davis's cousin, I decided to travel to London to learn what I could of your family."

"You traveled to London for me?" asked an almost disbelieving Elizabeth. Fitzwilliam nodded but continued his story.

"When I arrived in the Gardiner's home, I was informed that Mr. Gardiner was not in residence. The maid suggested I speak with his business partner. I informed her that I was visiting on behalf of a relation of his, and mentioned your name. Suddenly, the maid, who had been everything proper up until that point, cried out 'you have found our Miss Lizzy!' then she threw her arms around me and began to weep. I later learned that the maid had worked at Longbourn and had become ill the day of the carriage accident. She has blamed herself these many years for not being with you." Elizabeth's brow furrowed as she tried to remember the servants from Longbourn.

"The whole household heard the noise and came to surround me asking a million questions about you. They sent for Mr. Clipper, who is now Mr. Gardiner's partner, and he too wept to learn you had been found. Upon arriving Mr. Clipper was naturally suspicious of me and treated me rather coldly. However, once he was convinced that I was telling the truth, that you were safely ensconced at Pemberley, he insisted we travel to your family in Hertfordshire."

"I have family still in Hertfordshire?"

Fitzwilliam turned to look Elizabeth fully in the face before replying, "You have a great deal of family in Hertfordshire. All of them miss you very much. I am afraid you have believed many untruths, and I fear the truth may shock you. However, I hope it will please you as well."

"You make no sense at all, sir."

"Pardon me. I am not explaining things well. I do not know how to say this."

"You had best just say it then," mumbled an increasingly impatient Elizabeth.

"Your parents are alive." Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. "I assure you it is true."

"How?" was all Elizabeth could manage to say. "Mama, was so still. You are saying she was not truly dead?"

"She was rendered unconscious in the accident. When she revived, your mother was shocked to find yourself and your sisters missing. She searched the immediate vicinity, then walked to the nearest village. She immediately sent one express to your father and another to your uncle in London. Your father immediately assembled a search party, and your uncle rushed from town."

"Oh no," gasped Elizabeth. "It's all my fault."

"What is your fault?" inquired Fitzwilliam, who was perplexed by her distress.

"Every time a carriage approached, we hid, because I was afraid of highwayman." Despite the seriousness of the matter, the gentleman could not help laughing, and soon Elizabeth was smiling again.

"It is unfortunate, Miss Bennet; however, you were a small child. You cannot hold yourself culpable for an honest mistake."

"And uncle was not at Smithfield Market because he was already searching for us?"

"That is correct. It never occurred to those searching that you might have walked the many miles to town. It was assumed that you had either become lost in the countryside or sought help from those living nearby. It was only after several days that they tracked down the man who had been with you, and learned you had walked to town."

"Mr. Stockings?"

"That is not the name I recall."

"That was his name; I am certain of it. They found him then?"

"They did, and shortly thereafter, they found your sisters in an orphanage. The girls were both frightened by the experience, but they had been well looked after." Elizabeth sighed in relief. "There was a create deal of confusion regarding your absence. Your parents were eventually told that you had been given into the care of a carriage driver, who had given you into the care of a milliner. It is my understanding that they searched every millinery in London looking for you."

Elizabeth began crying profusely, as Fitzwilliam stood awkwardly beside her, uncertain of how to behave. It was his turn to sigh in relief when they finally arrived in the village which was their aim.

Fitzwilliam led Elizabeth into a small inn, where he arranged for her to take tea, then he hired a boy to watch for his carriage to ensure that Parker would not pass by the village.

Finally, Elizabeth looked up at her rescuer and asked, "My mother and father are both well?"

"Indeed."

"Why did the minister tell me my father was dead?"

"I do not know. It is my understanding that until your father met Mr. Clipper a few months ago, he and your mother were unaware you believed yourself an orphan."

"Oh. I do not understand."

"I do not understand either. I do know that you have two living parents who love you very much and who have been searching the entire country for years looking for you. I am sure they do not hold Mr. Clipper to blame, otherwise they would not have offered him a position in their business. I am not unwilling to answer your questions, but I am afraid I do not have the answers."

Just then, Parker entered the dining room. "Sir, I was informed you had stopped here. I hope there is naught amiss."

"Naught is amiss. We have much cause to celebrate." Only then did Parker notice the young lady who accompanied his master.

"Eliza!" the valet shouted joyfully. Then he immediately apologized, "Pardon me, Miss Bennet. I am overjoyed to see you well." Then he turned to his master, "Will we be returning Miss Bennet to her family now/"

"Yes we will."

A short time later, Elizabeth found herself riding alone in a well-sprung carriage, while Parker rode atop beside the driver, and Fitzwilliam Darcy rode alongside on his horse. She frequently glanced out at the man she knew as Master Fitzwilliam, and thought wistfully that she would prefer to be outside as well. More than spring air; however, Elizabeth desired company. She did not know how to digest all the strange tidings she had received that day.

To Elizabeth's astonishment, when her carriage pulled up to the Gardiner's home, her Uncle was eagerly awaiting her. He opened the carriage door, and helped her out, pulling her into his arms as he did. Elizabeth felt awkward, being embraced by her uncle, for although he was family, he was almost a stranger. Nevertheless, she did not pull away because she did not wish to injure her uncle's feelings.

"My little Lizzy! You have returned to us! If I know your father, he will be here within the hour. Bennet never relinquished hope of finding you, and every time there has been even the slightest hint you might be found, he has dropped whatever he was doing to rush to your side. I do not know how he has borne so many disappointments."

"Papa is coming? Is Mama coming, too? Will I see my sisters soon?"

"Only your Papa is coming now, my dear. Your mother is increasing. She is very near her time, and I do not think she will risk traveling." A sudden thought occurred to Elizabeth.

"Uncle, have I any more brothers and sisters?" Mr. Gardiner shook his head sadly.

"You did. About three years ago, your mother gave birth to a little girl whom they named Hope. Unfortunately, she had weak lungs and died of whooping cough just before her first Birthday." Elizabeth was surprised by how much sadness she felt over the death of a child she had never met.

"Oh."

"The London air did your little sister no favors. I think that is one of the reasons your father moved his family back to Longbourn."

"What?" asked a confused Elizabeth, forgetting to use ladylike manners. "Why were they not living at Longbourn already?"

Mr. Gardiner took his niece's hand as he gently responded, "In the months after your disappearance, your father spent all of his savings and a good deal more in his attempts to find you." Mr. Gardiner did not add that he had also poured a good deal of his own money into the search. "Eventually, it was decided that your family would join me in my home on Gracechurch street so that Longbourn could be let. Then, your father became my partner in business."

"My father went into trade so that he could afford to keep looking for me?"

"Not only that. The imports business enabled us to make connections with every millinery in London."

"But I was not in a millinery, nor was I in London."

"We know that know. Once we felt satisfied that you were not living in a millinery in London, we returned and spoke again with the hack driver who had given us the information in the first place. The man admitted that he may have been mistaken. He felt certain you had gone with a shopkeeper, but suggested perhaps the man had been a draper."

"Oh dear!" exclaimed Elizabeth letting out a slight giggle. She then noted her Uncle's grave demeanor and stifled her amusement. She had no wish to offend her uncle, who had clearly gone to a great deal of trouble on her behalf. Nevertheless, she could not help finding humor in the situation. "Let me guess, you made connections with every draper in London, only to learn that perhaps it had been a dry goods merchant?"

"You are not far off the mark. We made connections with nearly every shop in London eventually. Despite not believing it would benefit you in the least, we even made contact with some tobacconists and such. We wished to leave no stone unturned."

"I am sorry you went to such great effort for naught."

Mr. Gardiner smiled softly at Elizabeth, "I did not intend that you should feel guilty, my dear. It was no fault of yours that we were looking in the wrong direction. Besides, it did benefit me. A good many of those shopkeepers were interested in entering contracts with us. I suspect a few of them were motivated by compassion for your father's plight rather than a genuine interest in our products. However, I do not believe I flatter myself when I suggest that all of them have benefited from the arrangements we have made. Besides, your father was an excellent partner in the business. He has far greater business acumen than I would have expected from a gentleman raised to inherit his father's estate."

"But he is no longer your partner?"

"He is still involved with the business, but no longer on a daily basis. After Mr. Clipper approached us, and we learned that you were no longer living with a shopkeeper, we felt a new approach was needed. Besides, your father believed your mother would benefit from fresher air."

"But I do not understand. What happened with Mr. Clipper? How did he become your partner?"

"After you left with Lady Matlock, he attempted to contact you, but was unsuccessful. When her staff informed him that he had no authority over you, because he was not your legal guardian, Clipper began an earnest search for me. Believing I was your guardian, he intended to pay me a large sum to travel to Derbyshire and retrieve you from the countess."

"He told me he had looked for my family years ago. I have been doubting him for months. I suppose that confirms my doubts."

"Not entirely. Although Mr Clipper did not search as earnestly as he might have done, the man did attempt to find us years ago. However, some misinformation and some other news which he misinterpreted led him to believe that you were indeed orphaned and that I was squandering your inheritance for my own purposes."

"How did he come to such conclusion?"

"That is a story for another day, Lizzy, for I believe I hear your father at the door." Lizzy immediately leapt to her feet and rushed to the entrance hall, intending to throw herself into her father's arms. However, when she spied him, Elizabeth hesitated. Although he still looked like the Papa from her memories, a part of her could not help viewing Mr. Bennet as a stranger.

Mr. Bennet, despite sensing her reluctance, did not hold himself back. "My Lizzy, is it really you? I could scarce allow myself to hope."

"Oh Papa!" Elizabeth finally launched herself into her father's embrace, as tears gently streamed down her cheeks. "I thought you were dead."

"I am very much alive," Mr. Bennet finally allowed himself to murmur through his own heaving sobs.

"And Mama, too?" Despite having been told so, Elizabeth had not quite managed to believe her mother lived.

"Yes, and you will see her for yourself quite soon."

"But Uncle Gardiner told me she is increasing."

"She would not be held back. I knew even if I forbade her leaving Longbourn, she would have climbed through a window to find her way here."

"I am glad I will see her soon." Elizabeth then proceeded to ask about her sisters, but before her father responded their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Elizabeth's heart lurched at the idea of being reunited with her mother. However, it was not her mother at the door, but Mr. Lewis Clipper, with all of his family. Although it was not proper, Elizabeth greeted the little girls first. Then she greeted the women. Lastly she turned to Mr. Clipper, uncertain how to greet the man.

"I am so sorry, Lizzy. I know I do not deserve your forgiveness."

"For what are you sorry, sir?"

"For making assumptions that were untrue. For not seeking harder for your relations. For striking you. For speaking harsh cruel words I never meant."

"I thought of myself as your daughter," Mr. Bennet winced at these words, but Elizabeth did not see it.

"In my heart you are. Angry people are not always wise. I wish I had told you how much I valued you. Then you would not have been tempted to flee with Lady Matlock."

"I believed you were sending me away to punish me."

"Never, my dear girl. But I have no right to call you that. I selfishly kept you away from your family for years."

"But you did not know." Elizabeth could not forget the hurt Mr. Clipper had caused her, nor could she forget the kindness he had shown her for many years.

"I did not, but it is a miracle that you have been returned to your family despite my mistakes. It is probably an even greater miracle that they forgave me enough to allow me to become part of their search for you. Besides, this business opportunity has been amazing."

"Why did they forgive you, Mr. Clipper?" Elizabeth asked, through her muddle of conflicting emotions. She was thankful that she would not be cut off from the Clippers entirely, but she also resented the knowledge that her father and uncle had easily forgiven the man who had, however unwittingly, kept her apart from her family for years.

Mr. Bennet stepped answered the question, "I did not forgive easily. I am afraid I nearly gave Clipper here a black eye when he called upon us first. We nearly came to blows again after we traveled to Derbyshire when you were nowhere to be found. I did not forgive him fully until he came to me with the funds he had been saving to provide your dowry." Elizabeth balked at this response.

"He bought your forgiveness?"

"Not at all, little Lizzy. When I saw how much he had amassed for you, I knew he cared for you. You were not just an unpaid servant for him."

Mr. Gardiner then interjected, "He saved even more for you than for his own daughters."

"Because you were older," Mr. Clipper explained. "I knew you would be likely to need a dowry long before they did."

"We had already been considering bringing in another gentleman to take over much of the work your father had been doing," Gardiner added.

"Your mother needed to be away from the city. And I had formed a new plan for seeking you which required me to distance myself from the daily workings of the business. We knew that Clipper would be loyal to us because of his evident affection for you."

"And we knew he was a shrewd businessman because of how much he had managed to save."

Elizabeth nodded, wondering how they had been planning to continue to search for her, but fearing that it would be improper to ask. Instead, she turned to the little Clipper girls and asked them to tell her all she had missed in her absence. She smiled affectionately as the two exuberantly shared the details of their lives, completely unaware that several pair of hungry eyes rarely diverted from her face for fear that she would vanish if they looked away.

Fitzwilliam smiled as he watched Elizabeth embrace the children who had been almost sisters to her. Observing their joy reminded him that he had no place in this family reunion, and he began to make his excuses.

When Elizabeth realized that Fitzwilliam was preparing to depart, she encouraged him to stay longer, "You must remain here, sir, at least until my mother returns. She will wish to thank you for finding me, I am certain." Mr. Bennet, despite feeling that the young Darcy's presence was an intrusion, seconded his daughter's request. After all, he did not wish to upset the daughter for whom he had searched so long. Thus, Fitzwilliam consented to remain, though he kept himself to the periphery of the room, observing their celebration rather than participating.

Fitzwilliam could not help smiling as Elizabeth bombarded her relations with questions. She seemed so eager to learn everything she had missed during her seven year absence. Naturally, she was most curious about her sisters. As her father and uncle apprised her of each of the girls' interests and talents; Fitzwilliam did not doubt that Elizabeth would easily find her place among her family. Only later when he reflected upon the situation, would he find it unusual that no one seemed eager to ask Elizabeth for the details of her life away from them.

Because the newly reunited ones were so engrossed in their conversations, Fitzwilliam was the only one to immediately notice the arrival of a newcomer. Round with child, Mrs. Bennet more waddled than stormed into the room, and Fitzwilliam immediately rose to offer his seat. Unfortunately, in her hurried excitement, the lady was clumsy, and she tripped over her own skirt and fell toward Fitzwilliam. Being still somewhat weakened from the trials he had experienced months before, young Darcy could not quite support Mrs. Bennet's weight, and he tumbled awkwardly to the floor. The lady landed roughly on his lap.

Upon seeing the commotion, Elizabeth flew to her mother, and practically jumped into Mrs. Bennet's embrace. The two tightly clasped each others and wept, completely forgetting the gentleman underneath.

Finally, Fitzwilliam cleared his throat gruffly, causing Elizabeth to leap to her feet and offer assistance to her mother.

As the lady arose, she suddenly exclaimed "Oh! Oh, dear!" Not a moment later, Darcy noticed some wetness on his legs.

"What is it, Mama?"

"My waters. The babe."

Before Elizabeth knew what was happening, her mother was hurried up the stairs and a servant had been sent to call the midwife. Fitzwilliam then quickly made his excuses and departed, not wishing to impose upon the family at such an uproarious time. Mr. Clipper soon gathered his family together and did likewise.

Thus, Elizabeth found herself sitting in a room with only her father and her Uncle Gardiner. She scarcely knew what to say, and was immensely relieved when her father inquired, "Did you ever finishing reading Robinson Crusoe? I have kept a bookmark in our place, in case you hadn't."

"I did finish reading it, Papa."

"And what did you think of the ending?"

Within moments, Elizabeth and her father were deeply entrenched in a discussion of books.


	19. Chapter 21

The morning after her arrival in Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth woke to the sound of a lady sweetly singing.

 _I wonder why Mrs. Jenkinson is so cheerful this morning,_ thought Elizabeth until she suddenly remembered the events of the previous day _._ She hastily dressed herself and rushed from the room, without bothering to redo her braid.

As she entered the hallway, she immediately spied the source of the music.

"Aunt Gardiner?" Lizzy had barely thought of this aunt during her years away. Despite living nearby, Mrs. Bennet's sister had not spent much time with her young nieces, so Lizzy was startled when her aunt came to hug her tightly.

"Actually, it is Aunt Phillips now. The title Aunt Gardiner must go to my brother's wife. She will be here with your sisters near midday, I expect. And of course with your little cousin, too. Emma is the darlinglest little girl I've ever seen. Except perhaps for your sister Jane. Jane is the loveliest young lady that ever was. You probably remember her being all knees and elbows. Anyway, you must let me apologize Lizzy. I wish I had been more patient with you, when you were little. Your father tells me that you thought he and Fanny were both dead, which is simply dreadful to imagine. I wish you had come to us Lizzy. Even if that had been true, you must have known we would take you in."

Lizzy did not have the patience to respond, when she burned with curiosity, "Did Mama have her baby?"

"Not yet. Indeed, I believe it will be several hours yet. When I received your father's express last night, I feared I would not arrive before the babe. Mr. Phillip's wished me to wait until morning before setting off, but I would not be dissuaded."

"May I see, Mama? I can hardly believe she is truly alive."

"I am sorry, but you may not. Seeing your mother in labor would distress you." _Not as much as believing her dead_ , thought Lizzy. "I have been updating Mr. Bennet on your mother's condition regularly, I suggest you wait with him in the parlor."

When she entered the parlor Mr. Bennet welcomed her, and immediately offered an update on her mother's condition, unaware that Elizabeth had already spoken with Mrs. Phillips. Then he surprised Elizabeth by embracing her tightly.

"Lizzy, I am so glad you are returned to us. I love you so very much. I also want you to know that your family will welcome you and care for you no matter what happens. If you ever become separated from us again, I want you to know that we will always welcome you home. I also need you to know, my child, that even if your mother and I both die, you will be well cared for."

"I am sorry, Papa."

"There is no reason for you to apologize." Despite Mr. Bennet's assurances, Elizabeth could not helping feeling guilty for the separation from her family and for the pain her parents experienced because of it.

"I am here now."

"Indeed, you are. Would you like to read with me while we to hear more news from your mother?"

"Nothing would please me more, Papa. What were you reading before we came?"

"Nothing suitable for a little girl. I am sure your uncle has something more to your taste in his book room." Elizabeth looked down at the volume, and was surprised to see one of the same texts Constance had been reading at Matlock.

"I am not such a little girl," Elizabeth retorted almost petulantly. "However, I do not have a particular interest in the orbits of heavenly bodies."

"No, you are not little any longer," Mr Bennet responded sadly. Then he looked at Elizabeth curiously, "You are familiar with the works of Kepler?"

"Familiar would be a stretch. I have heard of him."

"Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy told us that you were his nursemaid for a time, and that you spend a good deal of time reading to him." Elizabeth nodded, confused by her father's non sequitor; she did not understand that her father assumed that she had heard of Kepler from the young gentleman. "He is a queer fellow. He seemed almost frightened of your uncle and I when we first met. I am afraid his manner caused us to think poorly of him at first. He seemed as though he must be guilty of something."

"Oh Father, Master Fitzwilliam is a good man. He was always kind to me, but never inappropriate. Besides if it were not for him, I would not have been returned to you. I dread to think what might have become of me if he had not come to my aid yesterday."

"I suppose I was almost rude to him yesterday. I wanted him away because I wanted to banish any reminders of your life apart from us. You are with us again just as you always should have been." Elizabeth pondered her father's words. _How could he pretend that the last eight years had never happened? Were not the changes in herself also reminders of their separation. Did he wish for her to act as though she had never been away?_

Not knowing how to respond to her father's confession, Elizabeth redirected the conversation. "Will you show me to the book room?"

Certainly. I do not know what books your uncle has which would please you. I know he had a book of fairy tales, but it is French. I suppose I could translate it as I read." Elizabeth knew her French was still far short of Fluent, but she had been working hard to improve it lately, and she might have enjoyed attempting to read the aforementioned book. Still, knowing her father's desire to avoid reminders of their separation, she chose not to mention her knowledge of the language.

It was only a matter of minutes before Elizabeth found a work she wished to read, and though her father had found the novel in question trite and uninspiring, his happiness in having his daughter returned prevented him from muttering a word against it. Thus, he and Elizabeth spent most of their morning, heads bent together, over that tome.

About midday, Mrs. Gardiner returned home with own daughter and four nieces. Elizabeth had been reading when they arrived, but the moment Mr. Bennet mentioned seeing the carriage from the window, she had dropped the book and rushed to the door.

Despite having rushed out the door, Elizabeth doubted herself when she finally saw all of the girls. Though she was not normally timid, she could not help feeling bashful at this reunion. She immediately worried that her sisters would not like her, or that they would see her as less genteel because of her time spent in service.

The other Bennet sisters were likewise nervous. Only Jane and Mary could remember Elizabeth at all, and Mary's memories were quite hazy.

Spying her older sister only increased Elizabeth's nerves. Jane Bennet had become the embodiment of everything beautiful. Her face and form displayed perfect symmetry, and her rosy complexion bore not a single blemish. Furthermore, despite having spent all morning traveling by carriage, not a single one of Jane's golden curls was out of place. Elizabeth wondered how she could ever hope to be an acceptable friend to such an exceptional beauty.

Nevertheless, when Elizabeth's eyes strayed to her younger sisters, she relaxed a little. Though the sisters were not identical to one another, Elizabeth could see a resemblance to herself in each of them. No one who saw her among them could question that she belonged.

"Are you really our long lost sister?" blurted the smallest of the girls.

"Of course, she is, Liddy!" retorted the sister standing beside her, "Can you not see how much she looks like me!"

"I missed you all so much!" Lizzy exclaimed, and within moments, her younger sisters had surrounded her in a warm embrace. Jane, however, did not join them, but instead stood back a little. Elizabeth tried to ignore the hurt Jane's behavior caused her, never imagining that her older sister wished to be among the throng but feared rejection.

Elizabeth smiled brightly as she returned to her father's side.

"You all are so lovely, I think I may send for a master to come and paint your picture this very moment!" declared Mr. Bennet. The youngest girls giggled, and even Jane's countenance brightened. "I am so glad to see you have all arrived safely. I missed you all, and I am delighted to have you all together."

"How could you have missed us when you have Lizzy to entertain you?" interjected Jane. Observing how much Mr. Bennet seemed to adore all of his daughters, Elizabeth assumed Jane was teasing, though she would later wonder if her sister was genuinely seeking reassurance of her own value.

"Nonsense, my dears, for our reading this morning would have been much more enjoyable with more voices."

"Can we do Shakespeare together now?" Lydia eagerly asked her father. Then she turned to Lizzy, "We just finished Julius Caesar, and were planning to start either Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet. Do you know either?"

"I know a little of Romeo and Juliet. I..." Elizabeth paused briefly, "I only know Romeo's part."

"Perfect!" exclaimed Kitty, leaping to her feet. "I shall not have to be Romeo this time! They always make me play Romeo!"

"Why you?" interjected Lizzy in surprise.

"Because I cannot read well enough to do it," quipped Lydia, "No one wants the part, because Romeo is so ridiculously dramatic."

"Is Juliet not just as ridiculous?"

"Probably, but she is also beautiful."

"Oh?" Elizabeth felt that her head was spinning. Apparently the plays which Mr. Clipper considered scandalous for young ladies were part of the regular diet of the Bennet ladies. "You do not actually act out the plays, do you?"

"Of course not!" Exclaimed Jane. "That would be exceedingly scandalous."

"But it would be ever so fun!" exclaimed Lydia.

"Well you are only nine, my little one, so you may play pretend to your heart's content," Mr. Bennet proclaimed. "But my older girls must retain some respectability.

"Can we read Shakespeare now, Papa?" Lydia again begged.

"After you have all washed the dust from the road, and had some tea, we can sit together and read from Romeo and Juliet. Perhaps we should even let Lizzy learn the heroine's part."

"No indeed, Papa, I had much rather be Romeo."

After Elizabeth spoke, she watched her sisters' hurried departure. Her younger sisters raced each other to the top of the stairs, but Jane strolled away with elegant composure. Elizabeth even imagined she could feel a cool breeze as her sister passed beside her.

Though she could not understand why, Elizabeth felt certain that Jane disapproved of her. Still, as much as this stung, she decided not to allow the pain to show. Instead, she would cheerfully embrace the sisters who seemed glad for her return.


	20. Chapter 22

"Will I have a chance to hold Tommy at all today, do you think?" Thomas Baennet teased his daughters, when his heir was just a few days old.

"I think not, Papa. All of us adore our new baby brother. Lydia only allowed me to take him from her because I knew how to change a diaper1 and she did not. "

"You should have called the maid, Lizzy!" Mr. Bennet exclaimed. Lizzy blushed for a moment, wondering if changing a baby was considered inappropriate for a gentlewoman. However, she did not let her father see her discomfort.

"And missed my turn with Tommy, I think not!" Mr. Bennet chuckled, which caused Elizabeth to sigh in relief.

"I hope you will not be torn apart with rivalry as you vie over who will become Tommy's favorite sister. I should hate to see my daughters torn apart by strife and division."

"There is no question of who is Tommy's favorite!" piped up Kitty. "He instantly settles when Jane holds him."

"That is because she is shaped the most like Mama," volunteered nine-year-old Lydia.

"Lydia!" chirped Mary. "You should not say such a thing."

"But it is true. And Mama and Papa say we are always to tell the truth." By this point Mr. Bennet began to laugh out loud.

"You should never say what is not true, my dear, but that does not mean that you should always say what is true. However, we are among family, you need not censor your speech here." Mr. Bennet then turned around and examined his daughters once again, "By the way, where is this most beloved sister?"

"Jane has gone to visit the Millers," Mary helpfully replied.

"I hope she has gone because she wishes for the young ladies company, and not with a hope to glimpse that ridiculous fop of a cousin of theirs."

"Oh Papa, Jane would never give Johnny Miller the time of day."

"I thought she was sweet on the fellow."

"That is old news, Papa." Lydia interjected, "She hasn't given poor Johnny a second glance since Mr. Bannister moved in three doors down."

"Truly? She fancies that fool?"

"He writes the most delightful poetry," answered Kitty in a dreamy voice.

"Delightful!" snorted Mary. "The man said that Jane's hair was as smooth as woven flax!"

"He better not have touched her hair!" groused Mr. Bennet.

"Of course, not!" Mary replied. "In any case, I think Jane is bound to be disappointed in love. Mr. Bannister has not called upon Jane since you made Mr. Clipper a partner.

Mr. Bennet nodded, "I believe Bannister thought your uncle and I would be more likely to bring him into our business if he married into the family."

"Would it?"

"Probably, what man would not wish to further the interests of his son-in-law. Nevertheless, we never truly considered him, even before bringing Clipper into our enterprise. I think I might prefer to see Jane fawning over Johnny Miller."

"Well, there is no danger of that," Mary dryly intoned.

"Are the Millers good friends of your family?" inquired Lizzy, who struggled to follow the conversation. All of the girls enthusiastically agreed that they were, and each one had a story to share to demonstrate the importance that particular family had in her life. From these stories naturally flowed others, which led the to the introduction of further characters who were known to the entire family except Elizabeth.

Although Elizabeth presented a a facade of cheerful curiosity about her family's friends and neighbors; her own absence from their tales pained her. The thought that she should have been a part of their tales weighed heavily upon her. She did not once consider that, if she had been with her family, these same friends would likely have only had small bit parts to play in their lives. After all, had Elizabeth not been lost, the Bennets would have remained always at Longbourn and would not have lived with the Gardiners in London.

Over the coming weeks, Elizabeth would meet many of her family's London friends and neighbors, but although no one intended to make her feel unwelcome, the encounters always left Elizabeth feeling as though she did not quite belong.

It further disturbed Elizabeth that her family was sharing an edited version of her absence, which caused her to believe they were ashamed of the truth.

"Yes, this our delightful daughter Elizabeth who has been missing for so many years," Mr. Bennet would tell his questioning neighbors. "Because of a misunderstanding she was believed to be orphaned, and she went to live with a well-to-do tradesman in Derby." Elizabeth would smile and nod at this point, and occasionally Mr. Bennet's interrogators would ask a few questions. A few would confess to having made Mr. Clipper's acquaintance, and speaking admiringly of his business sense. Although the man had been successful through the years, Elizabeth felt it was somewhat deceitful to refer to Clipper as "well-to-do," since he certainly had not been when she first traveled with him to Derbyshire. "When Clipper came to London, he learned that my wife and I were very much well, so he sent for Elizabeth, who was visiting friends at a wealthy estate at that time. Thankfully, we are finally reunited."

Occasionally, the neighbors would ask a little more about Elizabeth's visits, and believing it was what her father wished, she would mention her friendships with Georgiana Darcy and with Lady Barkely. Sometimes she even mentioned Miss Anne De Bourgh, but Elizabeth always felt a little dishonest, for she did not feel that Anne had ever truly accepted her overtures of friendship. Moreover, deep down Elizabeth could not shake the fear that her parents were embarrassed by her and the humiliating time she had spent in service.

For the most part, however, Elizabeth was able to push such anxieties from her mind, as both of her parents profusely expressed their affection for her. Mr. Bennet especially remembered to tell Elizabeth of his love for her, and for all his daughters, every single day. Elizabeth could not recall her father being half so affectionate before her disappearance, but she assumed that her memory was at fault. Most likely, the young girl reasoned, I surely took for granted those displays of affection which I received as standard fare. If she had bothered to inquire of her sister Jane, Elizabeth would have learned that Mr. Bennet, although never unkind, had not been a demonstrative father before the day of the carriage accident.

Elizabeth likewise found her mother altered, and Elizabeth could not discount these changes as stemming from her imagination. The mother whose memory she had long treasured had been lively and playful, if a little impatient; she had been quick to anger, but quicker to forgive, and her tears had never lasted long enough to redden her eyes before being replaced with laughter.

Some might say that the Mrs. Bennet Elizabeth met upon her return was an improvement. The matron had become steadier in almost every way; she did not fret or become overwrought with nerves. Although Elizabeth still rarely saw tears in her mother's eyes, she could not help perceiving that Mrs. Bennet seemed to be wracked with a sort of perpetual sorrow. Moreover, Mrs. Bennet simply lacked the vivacity Elizabeth recalled her mother previously possessing.

When she considered this lack of liveliness, Elizabeth attributed it to the death of the younger sister she had never known; however, if asked, Jane would have told Elizabeth that their mother had not been the same since the day of Elizabeth's disappearance. Indeed, Jane often felt that she had lost not only a beloved sister that day, but that she had also lost her mother. Moreover, though the same situation which had robbed Mrs. Bennet of her joy had turned Mr. Bennet into a more demonstrative, affectionate father, Jane could not see as easily what had been gained as she could what had been lost.

As it happened, Elizabeth never considered asking Jane about the changes in their mother, or about much of anything else. She had interpreted Jane's reserved manner toward herself as a sign of resentment and assumed that her older sister had no desire to become closer. Every time Jane went visiting and did not invite Elizabeth, it merely reinforced Elizabeth's suppositions.

Nevertheless, Elizabeth cheerfully formed friendships with each of her younger sisters, all of whom viewed her as a hero. Furthermore, her aunts and uncles doted on her, and her parents treated her as though she could do no wrong.

Despite the often stated affection of all her family, Lizzy could not shake the fear that they were ashamed of her and that her education left her inferior. All of her sisters viewed Elizabeth as more accomplished than themselves, but Elizabeth knew that her education had differed greatly from their own.

When her sisters and father discussed the great literature they had read, Elizabeth found herself with little to say. Elizabeth had spent a great deal of time reading, but Mr. Clipper had censored her reading, exposing her only to those tomes he viewed as appropriate for a lady. Even now, when Elizabeth was allowed to read anything she wished, Mr. Clipper's judgments affected her selections. However, when her family gathered together, they inevitably discussed the merits of various writers, and Elizabeth perceived herself as lacking. Being convinced of her own shortcomings, Elizabeth generally remained quiet through such discussions, even though she sensed that her father would prefer her to vocalize more opinions.

Finally, several weeks after her return to her family, Elizabeth allowed her deep rooted desire to defend the truth to overcome her fear of her poor education being exposed.

In the middle of a discussion of the Greco-Persian wars, Lydia burst out.,"It is so good that the Greeks defeated those vile, treacherous Persians. Think of all the great philosophy that would have been lost had the Persians won!"

Elizabeth expected her father to correct Lydia's misconception, but instead he seemed to affirm her views. Now, Elizabeth had never read the histories of Herodotus or the writings of any of the great thinkers of ancient Greece; nevertheless, she was familiar with the topic from years of reading scripture and scripture commentaries and of listening to sermons. This was enough to tell her that Lydia did not have a full picture of the story.

"But the Persians were not awful! Indeed, I think the world would have been benefited from their victory." Lydia gasped as though horrified, and though the others displayed less disapprobation, Elizabeth could discern that they too believed her statement was shocking.

Mr. Bennet, however, smiled fondly at Elizabeth, pleased that she had spoken up, and curious to hear what arguments she might offer.

"How could you say that the Greeks were so far superior to the Persians. When the Persians conquered the people of Judah, Cyrus the Great not only allowed them to return to Jerusalem, he provided assistance so that they could rebuild the temple. The Greeks, on the other hand, filled the temple of God with filthy idols!"

"That cannot be right!" Lydia exclaimed. Her exclamation shocked Elizabeth, who wondered how her younger sister could be so ignorant of the scripture. However, after a moment's reflection, sbe supposed that such a young girl could be forgiven such a lack of knowledge. After all, she herself could recall dozing during a few sermons and daydreaming during far more.

Jane, who hated to see her sisters fighting, calmly interjected, "Lydia, we must remember how Herodotus wrote that the Persians were more likely than any other society to adopt the habits of those they conquered. There may be some justification in Lizzy's point of view." Elizabeth looked thankfully to her older sister.

"Still," huffed Lydia, "it would have been dreadful if the Persians had won, and we never had the opportunity to learn from the fine mind of Aristotle!"

"I am not so certain that would have been a loss," contradicted Elizabeth. The next words were taken almost exactly from Lady Constance, though Elizabeth did not credit their source, "Aristotle was wrong about almost everything! If his writings had been lost to us, perhaps knowledge of the scientific might have reached its current status a thousand years ago! The knowledge brought to us by Copernicus and Keppler might have been commonly accepted long ago!"

When Lydia could not form a suitable response, she burst into tears and ran away, with gentle Jane following in her wake.

Elizabeth suddenly felt ashamed of the vehemence with which she had defended her opinion. "I am sorry Papa, she meekly offered.

"My darling girl, you have done no wrong. Your little sister needs to learn that there is more than one way to see the world. Indeed, I believe I owe you an apology. I have been assuming that you were less educated than your sisters. I now understand that your education, though different from theirs, has not been at all deficient."

Elizabeth smiled sadly at her father. Though her did not intend to intimate a deficiency on Elizabeth's part, Elizabeth again felt that she did not measure up to her sisters. Furthermore, she felt guilty both for having been so long absent from her family and for being so altered from what she had been before disappearing.

A sensible person might wonder at Elizabetth feeling in any way culpable in such matters; however, it is important to remember that girls of fourteen, even those in the best of circumstances, are often not logical creatures.


End file.
